Mary Sue goes Berserk!
by The Weird Ones
Summary: What happens when a Mary Sue shows up at the Hawks' camp, but doesn't do things the way she's supposed to? Parody, that's what! -- Rated R for language and adult themes.
1. The parody begins

Wakko: Uh, why are we doing this?  
Pearlyblue: Doing what?  
Ladybug: What? What? Huh?  
Wakko: You know, this. This… dialogue before the thing… thing.  
Ladybug: What thing? What are you talking about?  
Pearlyblue: Well, Mary Sue authors, especially those who co-authors their works with others – like we are – often does these kinds of things. Script-form dialogue before the actual story starts. It's usually very annoying and a big no-no, really, but we're establishing a humoristic precept, here.  
Ladybug: Mary Sue-who? Pre-what? Script-que? What the he** are you talking about? *looks confused* And why can't Ladybug say he**?  
Pearlyblue: We're going to try keeping this PG-13… at least at first, so take it easy with the swearwords.  
Wakko: Yeah, like thirteen-year olds (or five-year olds, for that matter) get all upset if you say he**. Or fu**.  
Pearlyblue: Dudes, the adults get upset, okay? Keep it down.  
Wakko: So shouldn't it be PG-40, then? *grin*  
Ladybug: *laughs* …Oh, no, wait, Ladybug still don't know what you're talking about…  
Pearlyblue: *sighs and rubs brow* You know, Ladybug, the story we've been talking about, like, ALL DAY?  
Ladybug: …Yeah…?  
Wakko: *in the background* …And I don't see how we're going to write a story about the Hawks… with Guts and Corkus and all… without using swearwords – I mean, they swear all the f***ing time…  
Pearlyblue: *Very patiently* That's the story we're going to start telling, now. We're just starting out with a…  
Ladybug: Oh YEAH! Ladybug remembers! It was that story with the… and the… and how they all like… and like… Yeah!! Woo hoo! Let's get to it!  
Wakko: …I mean, if we're going to censor Corkus and Guts, they're either going to come off as out-of-character like he**, or total wusses… Hey, I can say "wuss"!  
Ladybug: Cool! Wuss, wuss, wuss…  
Pearlyblue: *Getting exasperated* Well, of course you can say "wuss", that's not a swearword... *sigh* Alright, we'll up the rating and keep the swearwords, okay?  
Ladybug: *From the background* Wuss, wuss, wuss, wuss… Hey, what about all the sex in this story? Are we going to have to "sensor" that, too?  
Pearlyblue: Uuh… well… there IS a limit to what kinds of fic you're allowed to publish on this site…   
Wakko: Ah, no porno, I got it. …shame.  
Pearlyblue: Er… yeah. But there are tasteful ways of doing those parts…  
Wakko: *Raises eyebrow* There _are?_  
Ladybug: *Squeals* COOL!  
Pearlyblue: *Rubs temples* Yeah, so… uh… shall we?  
Ladybug: …Wuss, wuss, wuss… Shall we what?  
Pearlyblue: 'Scuse me for a second… *pounds head against wall*  
Wakko: *To Ladybug* Let's get this show on the road.  
Ladybug: *Cheerfully* Okay!  
Wakko: So, readers, I'll bet you've all encountered them at some point before: The stunningly beautiful, perfect, chirpy…  
Ladybug: Sparkly!  
Wakko: …yeah… uh, original female characters who quickly snares the hottest guy and beats the crap out of all the villains with both hands tied behind her back and a blindfold on. *pauses for a moment* …kinkyyy… Uh, I mean: The infamous Mary Sue!  
Ladybug: *Sings* Hit the road, Sue, and doncha come back no more, no more, no more…  
Wakko: *Places hand over Ladybug's mouth* Exactly. We don't like her either – that's why we've decided to make our own Mary Sue… and turn her into a parody. So make sure you've got your sense of humour set to "on" before you plunge into this story, okay? Otherwise you can just fumk mff…  
Pearlyblue: *Presses hand against Wakko's mouth* Language! God! *sighs and turns to readers* Yes. We're writing a Mary Sue. And we're publishing it. And we're having d*mn fun writing it, too!  
Ladybug: Ha ha, you said d*mn!  
Pearlyblue: *Ignores Ladybug* And we're actually not publishing it _only_ to annoy people – we also hope to entertain. But be warned: In the true spirit of Mary Sue-ism, the world of Kentaro Miura's "Berserk", as well as the original, canon storyline, will never be the same again.  
Wakko: A-men to that…  
Ladybug: What? Are we in church, now? When did that happen?  
Pearlyblue: …So without further ado… let's _get it on!_  
Wakko: *Raises eyebrow* Kinky…  
Pearlyblue: Shut UP! Oh, yes, and we do in no way own anything that Kentaro Miura originally created. The Mary Sue and her attributes are ours, as well as this crazy story concept, but nothing more.  
Ladybug: Eh?  
Pearlyblue: *Sigh* That's what's called a "disclaimer", it's a… *voices fade away. Cue dramatic intro music.*

  
~ ~ ~ The story begins… (finally) ~ ~ ~

  


Chapter one: Sylvia.

  
Her clothes were torn, as if they had been ripped and shredded by some malevolent force, and they only barely covered her curvaceous body. The cold water of the river lapped lazily around her prone form, lightly kissing her narrow waist and lending her milky-white, soft skin a sleek glow. Her waist-long reddish-golden curls cascaded down her back and moved gently with the currents of the river, like seaweed of pure sunlight.

Her almond-shaped eyes were closed, as if she was merely sleeping, but her breaths were uneven and shallow, and there were long gashes on her back from which slow, ruby droplets of blood trickled down her otherwise smooth skin. Where the blood mixed with her hair and the chilly river water, the effect was like that of a colourful autumn sunset.

That was how Judeau found her, when he finished his scouting round around the Hawks latest campsite. For a brief moment, he could only stare in awe at this image of perfection – as if a goddess had somehow fallen from the sky and landed in the river – but then he noticed the bleeding wounds on her back and shook himself out of his daze, quickly turning back the way he had come.

  
"Heey, Griffith!"

Griffith turned around at the call from his scout-commander and raised a questioning eyebrow as the blond man came running up to him.

"I found something," Judeau panted, pointing back over his shoulder with one thumb. "And I think you need to see this. Bring a doctor."

"A doctor?" Griffith furrowed his white, perfect eyebrows. "What is this "something", really?"

"A woman… she's unconscious and hurt." The scout's eyes flickered uncertainly to the side for a moment, then resettled on Griffith's. "And… I'm not sure, but I think she looks like a noble of some kind."

"Really? A noblewoman? Out here?" Intrigued, Griffith hurriedly summoned the camp's field surgeon and followed Judeau back to the river.

The woman did indeed look like a noble, with her smooth, milky skin and long, flowing hair – in fact, she was quite possible the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Certainly the most flawless – where all the other pretty noble-girls who would hound him whenever he visited the capitol were precious gemstones as far as looks were concerned, the woman laying half way into the river was absolutely a most exquisitely carved diamond.

He quickly made his way down to the riverbank and took her gently into his arms, turning her around so he could lay his eyes on the beautiful features of her face. Flawless.

A glittering pendant hung from a thin silver chain around her neck, and rested neatly between her firm breasts. It was a large, white-and-blue diamond, cut in the shape of a tear.

The woman drew a faint, shaky breath and her long, dark eyelashes fluttered, her rose-coloured lips parting slightly.

"Do not be alarmed, my Lady," he murmured soothingly. "You are safe now, and your wounds will be tended to immediately."

She shivered in his arms and frowned delicately as her big, almond-shaped eyes fluttered open. They had the most remarkable colour, he thought. One a deep, moss green, the other a dark amethyst purple.

Their eyes met for a brief eternity, and then she spoke. Griffith was for a moment too captivated by the sweet, melodious sound of her voice to realise exactly what she had said – then he caught up with himself and frowned in confusion. What she had said was:

"Oh drat. You really sounded like a man, there – got my hopes up."

Griffith blinked. "Pardon?"

She sighed and stretched a little in his arms. "Ah well. I was so hoping that a handsome man would save me…" She looked back at him again and frowned slightly. "You know, you've got a really dark voice for a woman." Then she smiled in a way that made him completely forget his indignation at being mistaken for a woman.

"Thank you, anyway," she said, beaming. "I've had a really rough time and it's so sweet of you to want to help."

The woman began to stand up and, bewildered, Griffith rose to help her.

"My Lady," he tried again, "I _am_ a…"

"What's wrong with those guys?" she interrupted him, looking over his shoulder at Judeau and the field surgeon. "They look like they're choking or something…"

Griffith turned around and gave the two men a questioning look. They were leaning on each other, their faces unusually reddish in hue. The field surgeon seemed very strained, and Judeau looked much too innocent. Griffith let his eyes convey a brief, annoyed glare, then turned back to the woman, pointedly ignoring the two.

"Pay no attention to them, my Lady. Please, allow me to introduce myself: I am Griffith, commander of the Band of the Hawk. And you are…?"

She gave him a confused look. "Griffith? That's an unfortunate-sounding name for a girl… but you're a commander, you say? That's good for you! Girl power!" She gave him an encouraging pat on the back and another one of those heart-melting smiles. "Myself, I am Jade Arvensis Ifolia Tellima Silene Emeraldine Virgaurea Beccabunga Agathea Linaria Sapphirenne Jasione-Montana Viscaria Nieva Trefida Chrystine Chatoyancer." She paused briefly, taking in their dazed expressions, before giving a small, adorable giggle. "I know, silly, isn't it? I had a lot of relatives who all wanted to name me… But I call myself Sylvia, for short. People usually find that easier to remember. I sure do."

Judeau took a deep breath and picked his jaw up from the ground. "Uh… huh. Yeah. Makes a lot of sense. I think."

When Sylvia turned back to Griffith, he saw Judeau and the field surgeon exchange a bewildered shrug behind her back.

"So," she asked, her fingers working at a tangle in her red-golden hair, "Can you tell me where I am? I'm afraid I've gotten myself a little lost… do you live around here?"

"Er… You're about three day's march east of Windham, my Lady… and my army and I have set up camp just over that rise over there. However, I feel that I should point out that I am, in fact, a ma…"

"Windham?" she interrupted, looking away and tilting her head to the side in a most adorable fashion. "Windham… Windham… Doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid. Man," she sighed, "I'm really lost, aren't I?"

"Uh… Lady Sylvia, if you will hear me out…"

"Oh god, look at my clothes!" Sylvia again interrupted. "I look like a total mess! God-poo-it, he ruined my clothes, the dork-head! Ooh… and I'm wet and cold… and hungry." In an instant, Sylvia had turned from cheerful to miserable-looking, and her plump, pink lower lip trembled weakly. She hugged herself and sniffled cutely, unconsciously emphasising her full, round bosom. Turning her heartbreakingly imploring eyes on Griffith, she mumbled hesitantly – an adorable blush creeping onto her high, delicate cheekbones,

"Will you please let me stay with you, Lady Griffith? I promise I will pay you back, as soon as I can… I won't be any trouble at all, I swear…"

"Uh… well, certainly," Griffith amiably agreed, trying to ignore the choked sounds that the two men behind him were making. "But I really must say: I am not a lady, ma'am – I _am_ a..."

"Oh thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise you won't regret it, Lady Griffith!" Before he knew it, she had thrown herself into his arms and hugged him tightly, the flowery scent of her hair enveloping and completely overwhelming him for a moment.

"Nnh… y-you're welcome…" was all that he could say. After a short while, she backed away again, a small frown creasing her flawless brow.

"What's… the matter, my Lady?" He said, for a moment surprised at how affected he felt when seeing that perfect face marred by worry.

"Uh… nothing. I'm sorry, you must already be self-conscious about it… I'm not going to say anything. But it doesn't matter, though! With eyes as pretty as yours, who's going to look at your chest, anyway?"

Again, Griffith blinked.

"My chest?"

Sylvia leaned in closer towards him and whispered confidentially:

"I said, don't worry about it. Believe you me: having large breasts isn't all it's cracked up to be! Just be happy with the way you are. You're a _gorgeous_ woman!"

Behind Griffith, Judeau burst out in helpless laughter. The field surgeon sounded like he was about to explode as well, as he eagerly implored Judeau:

"What? What did she say? Tell me, man! For God's sake, tell me what she said!"

As Griffith struggled to reel in his inappropriately flaring temper, Sylvia walked over to the two laughing men with an uncertain smile on her face.

"What? What's so funny?"

Judeau carefully wiped the tears from his eyes and placed one arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer for a short moment to whisper in her ear. Her flawless cheekbones immediately flushed with colour, and she pulled away from Judeau with a disbelieving look.

"No! Are you kidding me?"

Still shaking with barely contained laughter, Judeau shook his head. Sylvia turned back to Griffith, her beautiful eyes and mouth wide open in shock.

"You… you are a man? You're really a man?"

"Yes," Griffith responded, a tad more harsh that he had intended. "I've been trying to tell you so…"

He was once again interrupted as Sylvia's slender hands begun roaming over his chest.

"God, I just can't believe it… I mean, sure, you're really, really flat, but…"

"AH!"

"Oh my god!" Sylvia gasped, clutching her mouth with both hands. "You are! You really are! Oh god, I am so, so sorry! I'm sorry!"

"That…" Griffith firmly scolded the remorseful woman, covering the area she'd just grabbed with one hand, "…was _most_ un-lady-like!"

"I know," Sylvia whined, wringing her hands. "I'm not, you know. I'm really not a lady. I've never been a lady, I'm a warrior, really – I'm so, so sorry La- _Sir_ Griffith!"

Griffith closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. This woman was just about as confusing as she was beautiful – he could not recall any time when someone had made him become so… off-balance… before. He looked up at her again and gave her his most charming smile.

"It is quite alright, my Lady. No harm done. Let's go back to my camp, so we can tend to your wounds properly, shall we?" He offered her his arm but she just smiled in that radiant way of hers and nodded happily.

"Okay! Thank you so much, La– Sir Griffith! I won't forget this!" She cheerfully started towards the campsite, but the field surgeon halted her with one hand on her arm. As she turned to face him, the man immediately withdrew his hand and blushed bright red.

"Er… I'm sorry, ma'am… er… but… I-if you wish, I can put some quick bandages on… er… your wounds… um…"

She tilted her head to the side and gave the surgeon a smile that made Griffith feel oddly displeased.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" she said, "but I'm okay, really. Look."

She tore a strip of cloth from her torn shirt, exposing a strip of smooth, milky-white skin over taut abdominal muscles, and proceeded to wipe the blood off from a gash on her arm – only, there was no longer a gash under the blood. Her skin looked as perfect as had it never been broken at all.

The surgeon stared, uncomprehending. "What…? So… you weren't injured… at all…?"

"No, I was injured. I was really, badly injured – but I heal quickly, you know. After all, I _am_ half –demon."

All three men stared after her as she cheerfully turned on her heel and begun walking towards the campsite. When they fell in a few paces behind her, Judeau walked up next to Griffith and mumbled quietly:

"What do you think, Griffith? She's acting strange, talking strangely, claims to be a warrior and says that she's a half-demon…"

"Yes…" Griffith sighed thoughtfully, "Poor woman. Her physical wounds might not have been much, but she's obviously been driven insane, somehow."

"My thoughts exactly," Judeau agreed, then heaved a small, bewildered sigh. "So, what do we do?"

"She stays with us. She is surely a noble, with those fine features of hers, so it would be most unwise to turn her away."

Judeau smiled and shrugged. "You're the boss."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

  
Pearlyblue: Okay, yeah… I gotta go wash my hands now. Those early Mary Sue moments really… bleh, bleh, bleh… I feel so dirty… *wanders off*  
Wakko: Dirty? *grins* Kinky…  
Pearlyblue: *From a distance* I heard that! Eww!  
Ladybug: *Smiles* Wakko's the one who's dirty.  
Wakko: *Still grinning* And I like it. *Turns to audience* So, that was the first chapter. Hope you had the humour in you to enjoy it. Now review and tell us what you thought about it. Flames will be accepted, too – we love a good barbecue.  
Ladybug: Flames? Who's on fire?  
Pearlyblue: *muffled voice from somewhere in the background*  
Wakko: Oh, yeah, and we also know how to appreciate constructive criticism, so any advice will be welcome. *shouts back to Pearlyblue* Okay, I said it!  
Ladybug: Are we going to have a barbecue? Ladybug wants a luau!! Ladybug has the perfect straw skirt for it!  
Wakko: …. Kinky…  



	2. Sylvia causes further confusion

TWO: *in chorus* We still don't own 'Berserk'. Kentaro Miura does.

  


Chapter two: Sylvia causes further confusion.

  
Sylvia walked through the camp like the calm centre of a storm – all around, men were forgetting their tasks, dropping weapons and supplies to just stare at her as she passed them by. Some even turned to follow behind her, seemingly unaware of what they were doing. In her wake, a stunned silence spread through the ranks of the Hawks.

Sylvia herself didn't seem to realise the effect she was having on the men. She was happily prancing along, gazing curiously left and right and occasionally tossing off a cheerful wave at someone.

Griffith pulled Judeau closer. "First things first," he murmured, keeping a watchful eye on the stunning woman in front of them. "I must attend to various business, so I leave Lady Sylvia in your care. Get her some proper clothing – ask Caska, she might have something – make sure that she has everything she needs, and make _sure_ that she is safe."

"Ah… Yes, Sir. Got it."

Griffith turned around and nearly walked into one of Sylvia's almost-hypnotised followers. With a slightly annoyed huff, he slapped his white hands together and the surrounding Hawks immediately snapped out of their daze, threw off a quick salute towards Griffith and hurriedly returned to whatever they had been doing earlier. Giving Sylvia one of his most radiant smiles, Griffith bowed to her.

"If you will pardon me, Lady Sylvia, there are many matters that must be taken care of when an army sets up camp, most of all for its commander. I will return to you this evening, when everything has settled down… until then, I leave you in the able hands of Judeau, my scout commander, here. He will show you around, I'm sure."

"Okay," Sylvia chirped with a bright smile, waving a small, delicate hand. "Have fun! And thanks again for saving me!"

When Griffith left, Sylvia quickly snuck her arm in under Judeau's and looked up at him with eager anticipation.

"So, you're going to show me the camp? Please, tell me about this place and where it is… Like, what the cities around here are called and stuff. I want to try to figure out just how far I am from home."

"Um… yeah, sure. First, though, we'll get you something a little more… whole… to wear – then I can show you around. This way, Lady Sylvia."

The golden-haired woman looked down on herself and actually blushed slightly, walking timidly next to Judeau for a while, saying nothing. Finally, the silence started to feel awkward, so Judeau decided to try a little conversation.

"So… you wanted to know about cities around here, did you?"

Sylvia looked up at him again and nodded. "Oh – yes, please."

Judeau started to list the larger cities of Midland, beginning with the surrounding area and going outwards. When he had gotten almost to the border, Sylvia was looking so miserable that he had to stop and let out a disconcerted sigh.

"Nothing sounds familiar, does it?"

She shook her head sadly. Judeau thoughtfully scratched the back of his neck.

"This _country_ is called Midland," he tried carefully, "And the neighbouring one is called…"

"…Tudor!" Sylvia looked up at him with a rather stunned look on her face. "Midland and Tudor… that's it, isn't it?" When he nodded, she looked away again and stroked her smooth jawline in contemplation. "Tudor and Midland… so they're real, after all."

Judeau blinked. "Sorry?"

"Oh, nothing!" Sylvia gave him a smile so bright that it almost made him forget himself. "I just know where I am, now."

"Oh," he replied weakly. "Right. Good. Um. So, how far from home are you, then?"

"Errr… quite far." She nodded to herself. "Quite far."

Still not too certain about Sylvia's sanity, Judeau just gave her a confused look and found nothing more to say. But the thoughtful silence between them was soon broken by a very young voice from behind:

"Judeau! Pippin says that he can put your tent up, if you just say where you want it…"

The boy, Rickert, fell silent when Judeau and Sylvia turned around to face him, and just stared at the gorgeous, barely covered woman. Sylvia clasped her hands together and smiled most brilliantly.

"Oh, so cute! This must be your little brother, Judeau!" She bent forward, coming eye-to-eye with the young boy. "Hi there, I'm Sylvia. What's your name, little one?"

Rickert could not tear his eyes away from the _very_ feminine and _quite_ revealed bosom, hanging almost at his eye level.

"Um… um… um… um…"

Judeau cleared his throat, hoping to startle Rickert out of his daze before Sylvia took offence.

"That's Rickert, our youngest member… and we're not brothers…"

"Huh?" Not straightening up, Sylvia cast a surprised glance up at Judeau. "Are you sure? 'Cause you two look really alike…" She turned back to the still helplessly staring boy and pinched his cheek – which immediately blushed bright red. "You're the youngest member? And still a soldier and everything? That is so _adorable!_"

"…Um… um… um…"

"Ah, yeah, no, not related. At all. Rickert…" Judeau desperately tried to gain the young boy's attention. "…You can tell Pippin to put my tent somewhere around the other officers', Okay?"

"…Um… um… um…"

"But you've got the same eyes, the same hair…" She briefly straightened up and – to the scout's great surprise – pinched Judeau's nose lightly. "…The same cute little nose!"

Completely caught off guard, Judeau just blinked and felt his own cheeks grow warmer for a moment. "Um…"

Sylvia's smile widened. "Even the same cute way of saying 'um'!" Then she bent down again, put her arms around Rickert and hugged him tightly. "Oh, you are just too adorable!"

The situation was only getting more and more absurd the longer he stayed in Sylvia's company, and Judeau finally dealt with it the best way he could: He relaxed and laughed softly, shaking his head. This woman sure had a knack for doing the unexpected, so why try to expect anything? 

When Sylvia released Rickert, Judeau took the boy by the shoulder and finally gained eye contact – though the look in those eyes seemed to be coming from some very faraway place.

"Rickert," Judeau calmly said to the beet-red boy, "Did you hear what I said about the tent?"

Rickert's expression became confused and a little troubled as the boy made an apparent effort to speak.

"…B-breasts…"

Judeau quickly clamped his hand over Rickert's mouth and sent Sylvia a quick but strained smile of apology.

"Ah-hah… 'Scuse us for a second…" He bent down and held Rickert's red face closely to his own, making sure that the boy seemed to be paying attention before he spoke: "Rickert, tell Pippin to put my tent near the other officers', got it? And be sure to say thanks for me. Okay?"

Rickert nodded, and Judeau sent him off with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Then he took a gentle hold of Sylvia's elbow and led her onwards into the camp. She cocked her head to the side and sent him a curious glance.

"Are you _sure_ you're not related to that sweet little boy? I mean… you are just _so alike_, it's scary." She then gave a very small gasp and leaned away from him. "Don't tell me… he's your _son?_"

"What? No! Lady Sylvia, please, do I look that old to you?"

"Uh… I don't know…? I've never really been told how old humans have to be to be able to breed…"

"Huma…?" That's right; she's a 'half-demon', Judeau thought, stopping himself from completing that question.

A sudden, sharp gasp tore his attention back to Sylvia, and only through a quick, instinctive manoeuvre did he manage to grab her by the arm before she could run away into the crowd.

"Lady Sylvia? Where are you going?"

Sylvia stopped when he grabbed her, but was almost bouncing with eagerness and staring off in between the tents.

"That man! He was _so hot!_ Oh my _gosh,_ who is he? Who is he?!"

Judeau threw a bewildered look over her shoulder.

"Who?The redhead?The blond?The one with the scar?Or the beard?"

"Nooo," Sylvia whined, "The one who just disappeared behind that tent, over there… Ohhh…!"

"I'm… sorry, Lady Sylvia, I… have no idea who you're talking about."

Sylvia pouted cutely and sighed. "Oh well… I guess I'll see him again, since I'm staying here with you guys for a while. But when I do, you just _gotta_ introduce me!"

"Yeah, sure." Judeau said, nodding agreeably. "Now, this way, just a few more tents…"

"Tents," Sylvia said, frowning, as she turned fully back to him. "Why do you live out here in tents, anyway? I mean, I know you're an army and all, but is there a war going on, like, _right now,_ or what?"

Judeau blinked and frowned.

"Er… yeah… for about the last hundred years or so…"

"Really?" Sylvia cutely cocked her head to the side again. "That short, eh? So, you're just getting started, then. I see."

"Huh," Judeau grunted, again reminded that this woman was not entirely sane. Sylvia's eyes took on a sudden, excited sparkle.

"Oh, say, do you need any help? I can fight! I can fight real good! And I am so tired of being daddy's little princess and just sit on my bu… er… behind… while everyone else is out in the action, having fun."

"Uh-huh…" Judeau tried not to sound too sceptical. "You'll have to take that with Griffith, I can't give you authorisation to fight with us. I wouldn't necessarily call war 'fun' in any way, though…"

"Okay, I'll talk to him," Sylvia chirped, then looked as though struck by a sudden thought. "By the way, who are you fighting?"

"Tudor."

She looked adorably puzzled for a moment. "The _country?_"

He had to smile. "No, Lady Sylvia. I'm sorry, I meant the knights and armies of Tudor."

"Ohh," she laughed, "Of course you did, how silly of me… so, you're fighting other humans, is that it?"

"Yes." He couldn't keep himself from adding: "What else, Lady Sylvia? Cats or horses?"

To his surprise, she actually shuddered and shrank away a little.

"Yes," She mumbled. "'Specially if they were demon cats or… eugh…"

Judeau gave up on trying to comprehend the beautiful but obviously confused woman – it was beginning to give him a headache.

"Ah, here we are!" he said, pulling aside the opening flap of Caska's tent – and quickly pulled it closed again.

"Judeau!" An enraged female voice shouted from inside the tent. "I thought you of all people would remember to announce yourself before just barging into my tent!"

"Yes," Judeau answered, knowing full well that a most embarrassing blush had spread over his face and carefully avoiding eye contact with Sylvia. "I know. I'm really sorry, I was preoccupied."

"With _what?_"

"There's someone out here that I was going to introduce to you. We were… talking." Or more like _she_ was talking, he thought, and I was being confused and didn't think and _…you weren't wearing a shirt…._

Sylvia's long, reddish-golden curls slowly came into view. He glanced over at her and saw a cunning little smile on her rose-coloured lips.

"You like her," she said, very quietly. "Don't you?"

He looked away from her and back at the closed tent flap in front of him. "Are you decent yet, Caska?"

"Yes," she growled from inside the tent. "Come on in."

Judeau held the flap open for Sylvia and then followed her, hoping to high heaven that he wasn't still blushing – too obviously. Caska had a tunic on now and was drying her hair as they came in, her back turned to them. When she turned around to face them, Judeau shrank back just a little at the dark scowl she sent him, before turning her attention on Sylvia.

"Who is…?" She began, but Sylvia cheerfully interrupted:

"Wow, what a cosy little tent! Did you decorate it yourself?"

Caska threw a quick, confused glance around the very sparse interior of the tent. There was her bed, her chest for personal affects, a table and a chair.

"Er… what?"

"Caska," Judeau smoothly interjected, "allow me to introduce Lady Sylvia. Lady Sylvia, this is our second-in-command, commander Caska."

"So pleased to meet you!" Sylvia chirped, grabbing Caska's hand as if to shake it, but before the dark woman had a chance to react, Sylvia had pulled her in close. Startled, Caska found herself gazing into worried, odd-coloured eyes. There was a desperate edge to Sylvia's voice as she whispered:

"Please tell me you're a real woman!"

Judeau was trying to signal something behind the beautiful woman's back, but Caska ignored him, blinking at Sylvia.

"…Yes…?"

Relief flooded Sylvia's features and she released Caska again with a bright smile.

"Whew, I'm so glad… didn't want to make that same mistake again… So, you're the second-in-command, eh? That's cool!"

"Hm… yeah… I guess…"

Judeau stepped up next to Sylvia and interfered again:

"We found Lady Sylvia down by the river, she's somehow gotten very far from home and Griffith thought it best if she stayed with us, at least until we've figured out where she belongs. And… she needs some new clothes… as you can see."

Caska looked up at Judeau in surprise.

"She's staying with us?" Then she looked back at Sylvia with a slight, thoughtful frown on her face. "Griffith said so, huh?"

Sylvia nodded cheerfully.

"Uh-huh, isn't that awfully nice of him?"

Caska quickly glanced Sylvia up and down, and her expression darkened just a little. I can see why…, she thought, but then she shrugged and heaved a small sigh.

"Clothes, yeah, I think I have something that would fit you."

Sylvia bounced happily and clapped her hands – and Judeau carefully averted his eyes – as Caska resignedly bent down to rummage through her clothes.

"By the way, Caska," Sylvia said, "I just love what you've done to your hair! I mean, how do you get it so… short? It's beautiful!"

Caska paused and looked up at Sylvia in confusion. "What? I… cut it. Off."

"Really? With what? How does it not grow right back out again?"

Caska blinked.

"What are you talking about?"

Sylvia pulled one of her silky locks over her shoulder and fingered it nervously.

"I mean, I've tried everything. You know, sometimes a girl just wants a change… but it just grows right back out again. Always." She heaved a small, heartbreaking sigh. "Oh well. I guess it's different with human hair."

"Human… what?"

The two women blinked in confusion at each other for a moment, then Sylvia smiled radiantly and batted it away with an easy gesture.

"Nevermind. You look gorgeous, it really suits you. Have you found anything?"

Judeau was trying to get her attention again, but Caska was still miffed at him, so she pretended not to see it. She pulled out one of her spare tunics from the chest and held it up for Sylvia.

"Right. Thanks. Here, I think this'll fit nicely…"

"Okay," Sylvia chirped and pulled off the remains of her top.

"Whoa!" Judeau spun on the spot and quickly made his way out of the tent. "Okay, okay, I'm out. I'm gone. I'm sorry."

Sylvia threw a glance after the retreating man and turned to Caska in puzzlement.

"What was that about?"

Caska just gaped at the half-naked woman in astonishment.

"What's the matter with you, have you no shame? You don't get nak- undressed in front of a man!"

"Why not? He's a nice guy… and a fellow warrior, just like me."

"But… he's a _man!_"

Sylvia nodded, still confused.

"Yeah, I noticed. Cute, too. So what?"

"So what? But he's… but you _don't…_ It's _not appropriate!_"

Sylvia tilted her head to the side.

"Oh… okay, I didn't know that. It's a custom, I understand."

Caska blinked again.

"Custom…?" Then she shook her head and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Just get dressed and get out of here."

"Okay."

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Pearlyblue: So, yeah, that's it for now. Updates are a little slow since we're not together all the time *under her breath* …thank god… *normal voice * But we DO have a lot of fun writing this thing, so don't worry that it'll go away. And why am I saying this? Because, my friends, we have actually gotten REVIEWS! And POSITIVE ones, at that!  
Ladybug: Oooh, reviews! Whee! We got reviews! Ladybug is so happy! Happyhappyhappyhappy… Pearl, what's a review?  
Wakko: So… that means that… there are actually people in the Berserk fandom who don't mind parodies. Hm. I don't know if I should be disappointed or not…  
Pearlyblue: Disappointed? Why would you be disappointed? We're ENTERTAINING!  
Ladybug: What's a review?! Peeeaaarl!!  
Wakko: Yeah… but we're not… y'know… shocking. It would be fun to mock people who'd go: "How dare you try to make fun of such a serious series" or something.  
Ladybug: Pearl?! Pearl?! Hel-looo! Ohh… *pouts*  
Pearlyblue: Well, I for one am happy that there are individuals with a sense of humour in this fandom, too.  
Ladybug: But why won't anyone tell Ladybug what a review is? Hello?! *gasps* Is it… kinky?!  
Wakko: *grins* Why, yeah, they are.  
Pearlyblue: Oh shut up, they're not! They're just a way for people to tell us what they think about our story, that's all. NOT kinky.  
Wakko: *sulkily * Well, they COULD be.  
Pearlyblue: Didn't I tell you to shut up?  
Wakko: *sticks tongue out at Pearlyblue*   
Ladybug: So… positive… reviews… that means they… LIKE US? Whee-hoo!! *dances and bounces* They like us, they like us, they like us…  
Pearlyblue: *sweatdrops* Okay, yeah… glad we cleared that up… so, anyway, please keep reviewing – and The Weird Ones especially wishes to thank Emily, Liz, midnightinthegarden, Niclas and Multi-Facets for their lovely comments.  
Wakko: I want more naked in this story.  
Ladybug: Ladybug wants more happy reviews!  
Pearlyblue: I want to get out of here…  
Ladybug: *trailing after Pearlyblue* Ooh, where are you going? Can I come too? Pleeeeease….  
Wakko: *looks left, looks right… snatches all the handsome men in the Hawks' camp and runs offstage* Muahahahahaaa...!


	3. Sylvia reveals some secrets

Pearlyblue: Okay, team. Let's give the readers a good parody of a really bad disclaimer, shall we?  
Ladybug: Oohh… Pearl, what was a "dysclammer", again?  
Pearlyblue: *Deep sigh* It's a note at the head of the fic where you basically say that you don't intend to steal the original author's characters/ideas/world for your own profit. It's the polite thing to do, to credit the one who thought up the original story.  
Ladybug: *Nods* Oh yeah. Ladybug remembers now.  
Pearlyblue: Good. Okay, bad disclaimer in three… two… one.  
Wakko: *Clears throat* "The Weird Ones no ownie Berserk… except for me, I own Guts, Griffith, Judeau, Pippin, Caska and Charlotte – they are my sex slaves and I keep them locked up in my basement." *frowns at the script in her hand* "MWUAHAHAHAHAAA… !!!!11111!!!" …Pearl, is that supposed to be there? Those are ridiculously many exclamation marks, and what the fu** is up with those 'one's?  
Pearlyblue: Yes, that's supposed to be there. Parody, remember? Ladybug, it's your turn.  
Ladybug: Oh! Um… "And o…" …owe… wee… we. We! "We also own Sylvia, who is a combination of all of us! Only sparklier! Tee hee! Does the peace sign." Huh?  
Pearlyblue: No, no, no, you were supposed to do the peace sign, like this: *does the peace sign* You were not supposed to SAY "Does the peace sign"!  
Ladybug: *Looks at script again* Oh. *blushes* Ladybug is sorry.  
Pearlyblue: *Sighs*It's okay, never mind. Hrm, "But since we've said that we no ownie Berserk (someone else does, but we can't be bothered to remember who), nobody can sue us, so nyah! *sticks tongue out*" Okay, that's a wrap. Good work, girls!  
Wakko: *Burns her script* Whatever. Now let's do it properly.  
Pearlyblue: Yes, let's: The Weird Ones wishes to thank Kentarou Miura for writing and drawing the incredible manga "Berserk", which inspired us to write this parody. We apologise if it is in any way offensive to Miura-sama, but like to stress that we do not in any way intend to make a profit out of the use of any of his characters – this is entirely for fun.  
Ladybug: We are really nice people, really! And Wakko, too – She really doesn't have Guts tied up in her basement, at all!  
Wakko: *Sighs wistfully* Only in my dreams.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Chapter three: Sylvia reveals some secrets.

  
Judeau leaned back against some crates just outside of Caska's tent and let out a long breath.

You are a bad man, Judeau, he silently scolded himself. A bad, bad man. You should feel ashamed of yourself, and not… damn it, that was embarrassing!

A grin threatened to break out on his face.

…Though, this has to be my lucky day – in about five minutes, I got to see the two most beautiful women I've ever…

He mentally slapped himself.

Stop that! You're not some damn teenager anymore! You're a grown man – act mature, for crying out loud! It. Was. Embarrassing! Twice!

…Yep. Twice… And it was beautifu-

He began to whistle quietly to himself.

"So…" Sylvia's melodious, cheerful voice finally startled him out of his dilemma. "Where are we going to go now?"

"Ah, Lady Sylvia!" He smiled as un-guiltily as he could. "How does the clothes fit?"

Sylvia turned around in front of him and tugged a little at the simple tunic. Behind her, Caska stepped out, looking about as cheerful as a dark cloud on a stormy day.

"Well, it's a little bit loose around the waist," Sylvia said, giving the fabric another light tug, "And a little tight around the chest. But otherwise, both the shirt and the pants are just perfect!" She turned back to the now actively fuming Caska and smiled most brightly. "Thank you so much, Caska! You're the best!"

Before the dark-haired woman had a chance to explode, Judeau intervened, pushing Sylvia back and out of harm's way.

"I think we should get going, Lady Sylvia," he said to her, urging the confused beauty on a few more steps. "If you just wait here for a few seconds, there is one more thing I have to talk to Caska about. I'll be right with you."

"Ohh…" Sylvia smiled knowingly at him and winked. "In private, I see. Don't worry, I'll stay right here. Take your time."

Judeau wasn't quite sure of how he should react to that, so he just smiled politely and turned back towards Caska. He noted that the dark woman's hands were balled up into really tight fists and trembling with barely restrained rage. Sylvia's last comment had apparently pushed a few too many buttons – Caska looked just about ready to kill someone. A certain, golden-red haired someone.

He gave her his most placating smile and leaned in closer, whispering quietly:

"As I think you've already understood, Caska, Lady Sylvia is not… quite sane. She must have had some kind of accident, maybe she hit her head or something, but, among other things, she thinks she's a half demon… so don't judge her too harshly."

Caska's dark, fiery eyes bore into his with a very sarcastic look to them.

"Really? She's insane? I didn't notice." Then she looked over his shoulder at Sylvia and her eyes darkened even further. "That's no excuse, though, to be so… downright rude!" she hissed, "Loose around the waist, huh? Tight around the chest? That's just…!"

Judeau carefully placed a calming hand on her arm. "Really, Caska, I don't think she meant it like that. She's confused, you know, I really believe that she was only answering my question about how they fit, that's all."

Still glaring at Sylvia over his shoulder, she shrugged his hand off and growled, "Yeah, whatever." Then she abruptly turned away and disappeared into her tent.

Well, Judeau thought to himself, that could have gone a lot worse. He turned back to Sylvia, only to find her staring in awe up at the sky. Warily following her gaze, he found nothing special to look at.

"Lady Sylvia…? What are you…"

"It's so incredible!" she blurted, "The sky's so… blue! And look at those adorable, white, fluffy little clouds! I didn't notice that before, that's amazing! So pretty!"

She looked down at him with her odd-coloured eyes sparkling with amazement. "Is it like this often?" she asked, almost breathlessly.

Judeau fell back in his 'don't try to expect the unexpected' mode and smiled brightly.

"Yes, this is how it usually looks… when it's not raining. Then it's mostly grey with clouds." He gently took her arm. "Shall we?"

She began following him, but turned her face up at the sky again and murmured absently:

"Wow… it's so different from the sky back home… so pretty… so blue… I wish mom could see this… but she would probably hate it, though."

Judeau threw a quick glance down at her and gave a small shake of his head. 

I'm not even gonna ask…

After a while, though, Sylvia seemed to have had her fill of staring at the blue sky and she looked back at him again with that knowledgeable little glint in her eye.

"By the way, Judeau, that's a really cute girlfriend you've got. You look really cute together!"

Judeau's heart seemed to skip a beat or two and he immediately turned to her, pulling her to a sudden halt. "What are you talking about?"

She blinked her large, almond-shaped eyes at him in confusion. "You and Caska…? I mean, it's obvious how much you love her…"

"She's not my girlfriend," he said, hushing her with as subtle hand-gestures as he could manage and nervously glancing around at the nearby tents, "And I'm not in love with her."

Her face screwed up in an adorable little frown.

"Uhh… hello? Who do you think you're fooling?" Then her eyes went very wide and she gave a small gasp. "Ohhh, okay, I see… It's a _secret_ relationship!" She winked at him again and let him push her in a little further away from the main tent area. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, I promise. But you know, you should really try to hide it better."

"I thought I was," he murmured quietly, casting quick glances back over his shoulder. "I don't think anyone else ever noticed before…"

"They haven't?" Sylvia sounded honestly surprised, and Judeau inwardly cursed himself for underestimating her hearing. "What are they, stupid? Or just completely clueless?"

He paused, acceptably certain that they were out of immediate earshot of the others, and studied her thoughtfully for a moment. He let out a small, exasperated puff of breath.

"I don't know," he admitted, and emphasised his points with a decisive finger, "But it doesn't matter, and you mustn't tell anyone!"

"But… I already told you that I wouldn't…" she said, again blinking in confusion. He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to calm down even more. Then he smiled at her and continued in a gentler and more confidential tone of voice:

"No, Lady Sylvia… I mean that you must not tell anyone about what you think you saw back there… not even – no, _especially_ not Caska."

"Mmbut… isn't she… in on it…?"

"No. No, she's not."

Sylvia's eyes immediately took on an excited sparkle and she almost started bouncing again.

"Oh, how cuuute!! You've only just fallen for her, and you haven't gone after her yet! Oh god that's so sweet – new crushes are so adorable…"

"Er, no, not really…" he tried, but Sylvia continued, unperturbed:

"Oh, is there something I can do? Anything? Because I just think these love-things are so totally adorable…"

"No, Lady Sylvia, please listen…"

"Ooh, I could, like, cook you a romantic dinner, set it up in some private spot… just the two of you, and moonlight and candles…"

"Sylvia! Please! Let me speak!"

"Hm? Okay."

He blinked at her sudden, attentive silence, and then gathered himself up again.

"It's like this," he began, "I've been in love with Caska for many years now, yes, but I've never acted on it, and I never will. The reason is very simple: I'm not the man she wants, she's hopelessly in love with Griffith."

Sylvia's face screwed up in another cute little grimace.

"What? That girly… Errr… I mean…" She looked away and frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Are you trying to tell me that she's… into girls?"

"No, Lady Sylvia, Griffith is a man, remember?"

"Yeah, but he's so…" She made a small, uncertain sound. "…you know…?"

Judeau shook his head.

"No. I really don't. In fact, you are the only woman I've ever met who's seen Griffith and not been thoroughly impressed with him. That goes for guys, too… in a slightly different way, though."

"Really? But… but you're so much cuter!"

Judeau sighed. "Well, thank you for that… but you must still be the only one who thinks I've got anything on Griffith…"

"Nonsense, you have lovely eyes, cute little freckles, a really nice butt and I bet you've got quite the body underneath them clothes…"

Judeau felt his face flush bright red and let out a short, rather silly-sounding laugh, resisting an impulse to cover himself with his hands.

"Thank you, Lady Sylvia, but I don't think that's really appropriate, you know… someone might get the wrong idea…"

Sylvia blinked her big, innocent eyes at him. "Like what? It's just the simple truth…" then she seemed to catch on. "Oh… Oh, no, Judeau, I didn't mean to say that I… um… no, I mean, you're cute and all, but you're not really my type. Besides, I know how much you're into Caska and all. No. I didn't mean to flirt. I just don't always think before I speak… I'm sorry."

"No harm done," he reassured her, battling the furious blush as best he could. "No harm done."

Sylvia's face lit up with another brilliant smile. "Really? You're so nice… I feel like I'm just making a fool out of myself every time I open my mouth… And it's not helping at all that I know hardly anything about humans and their behaviour." She took him shyly by the arms and looked up into his face with pleading eyes. "Judeau, will you help me? Please? Will you tell me when I'm about to say or do something _really_ stupid?"

With that flawless, beautiful face staring up into his like that, how could he possibly refuse?

"Okay, Lady Sylvia." He smiled. "I promise I'll help you, to the best of my abilities."

She brightened up again and hugged him tightly.

"Oh thank you! You are so sweet! You're the first friend I've made in this strange place, and probably the bestest, ever!"

Judeau took a deep breath to get his voice under proper control before he answered:

"Thank you… thanks. You're welcome."

She released him, still smiling as brightly as a summer sunrise.

"And since you've been so nice to me, and since you're going to help me, I am going to help you, too." She patted him conspiratorially on the shoulder and winked again. "Don't worry, I'll help you get your Caska."

The urgency with which he'd pulled her aside returned abruptly and in renewed force.

"Uh, no, Lady Sylvia, I don't think you…"

"Heeyy, Judeau," a deep, gleeful voice interrupted them. Turning around to face its owner, Judeau saw a small group of five burly men approaching them slowly, deliberately, already splitting up to form a semi-circle of sorts around the two of them. Judeau recognised these guys, they were notorious troublemakers – the kind of mercenary you didn't really want to have to trust your life with. The kind of guys who gave mercenaries like the Hawks a bad name.

The biggest of them, a blond man named John, if Judeau remembered correctly, spoke again, purposefully drawling:

"Why don't you share what you got there?"

Judeau felt his pulse rise slightly and smoothly placed himself in front of Sylvia. He smiled amiably and hooked one hand behind his neck, for quicker access to his throwing knives.

"Come on, guys," he said cheerfully, "let's be gentlemen about this."

None of the brutes seemed worried, and a few of them begun to grin wolfishly. He could feel them sizing him up and knew that he was not in a favourable position. He might be able to take two or three of them out before they were upon him, but once they were… they had size, strength, and still numbers to their advantage. This could get ugly – and painful.

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Scout commander," John said with a widening grin. "We're gonna treat the lady real nice."

Sylvia peeked out at the approaching men from behind Judeau. "What? What's going on? What do they want?"

"Come over here, and I'll show you," another one of the guys growled lustfully.

Sylvia hesitated, and Judeau took the opportunity to play his final and best card for a peaceful solution:

"Griffith doesn't want any harm to come to her, you understand?"

John just grinned at him and let his eyes travel down what he could see of Sylvia's body. "Now, now… Griffith won't have to know. We just want to play a little with her, that's all, and we're gonna be so gentle…"

To his initial surprise, Judeau felt Sylvia's small, delicate hand grip his shoulder and gently but firmly shove him aside. With rising panic, he watched her as if paralysed as she calmly walked over to come face-to-face with John.

"So…" she said curiously, seeming completely unaware of the danger she was putting herself in, "This 'playing' you're talking about… that wouldn't happen to be anything like _mating,_ would it?"

John leered down at her and threw a quick glance over at Judeau.

"See? She's in on it." He looked her up and down again. "Aren't you, babe?"

Sylvia cutely cocked her head to the side. "And if I'm not?"

"Don't worry, babe, you will be."

"Now let's see if I've got this straight," Sylvia said, "You want to mate with me, and even if I don't want to, you're going to force yourselves on me, is that it?"

By way of response, John reached out and grabbed one of her breasts, wrapping his other arm around the small of her back. One of the other guys quickly moved in from the side, reaching out to grab her wrists.

Judeau finally managed to shake his paralysis off and had three knives in his hand in a heartbeat. When he was about to fling them at their targets, he had to stop again. Something was very wrong about the positions of the targets – they had been hoisted up into the air a feet or so.

It took him another instant to realise that Sylvia's hands were around their throats, and that _she_ was the one who kept their feet dangling above the ground.

"Now listen here, gentlemen," Sylvia began calmly, no strain evident in her voice, "That is no way to treat a woman. A woman's body is her own business and nobody else's, and she chooses for herself who gets to touch it or whom she wants to mate with. If you try to force a woman to mate with you, you are being very, very bad – and you have only yourselves to blame if she tears your throat out. Right?"

The two big, heavy men struggled vainly against her grip, trying to pry her hands open, kicking against her legs, but to no avail. Sylvia stood as steady as a rock, and didn't wait for either of them to answer her.

"Now, I trust that you are really sorry for what you just did, and that you won't do anything like that to anyone ever again – because if you do…" The two men turned a few shades more blue and had to stop struggling as she squeezed their throats tighter. "I won't be as nice and friendly about it next time. Do you understand?"

Her tone of voice had not changed one bit since she'd lifted them, and it seemed only that much more menacing in its calm reasonability – especially since not a single thing the two men had done had brought even the slightest strain or hitch to it. 

The other three thugs had already made themselves scarce, but Judeau slowly moved up next to Sylvia, hesitantly reaching out to nudge her on the shoulder.

"You know…" he heard himself say in a rather dazed voice, "…You're strangling them. They're going to die soon if you don't let them down…"

She gave him a serious, sideways glance.

"I know. If you'll just let me finish this, I'll release them before they die. Do you mind?"

He raised his hands defensively and shook his head, backing off a few steps. Sylvia turned back to the two purple-faced thugs.

"Have you been listening to what I've said?"

They made an effort to nod, their eyes bulging.

"So, have you understood?"

They nodded again, eagerly. Sylvia gave a small sigh, drawling patiently:

"And what won't you ever do again…?"

After several weak efforts, John finally managed to croak:

"Take… a woman… who doesn't want to…"

Sylvia grinned brightly and immediately released the two, letting them tumble heavily to the ground.

"Good!" she chirped. "I'm glad we had this little talk." Then she turned her bright smile on Judeau. "Shall we go?"

Still feeling a little shell-shocked, he merely nodded and gestured her in the direction they had been going before. She happily skipped on ahead, and when he passed by the two coughing, wheezing men on the ground, Judeau stopped briefly.

"You know," he said as they looked up at him, "Nobody's going to believe you, if you tell them. And they're not going to believe me – so just this once, I'm going to pretend like this didn't happen."

They just stared dumbly at him, and he leaned down a little closer towards them, gathered up his scattered thoughts and lowered his voice to a more confidential hush.

"However, I really think she meant what she said. I wouldn't try to 'play' with another reluctant woman, if I were you. I certainly won't be held responsible for the consequences."

Then he hurried in between the tents to catch up with Sylvia.

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Pearlyblue: And again, I have good news! We have gotten more positive reviews!  
Ladybug: *Blushes* Er… Pearl…  
Pearlyblue: Not right now, we've gotta thank our reviewers…  
Ladybug: But Pearl… it's about the reviwerers… erm… *mumbles something in a very, very small voice*  
Pearlyblue: *Leans closer to Ladybug* What was that?  
Ladybug: *Beet red* La… Ladybug reviwered the fic. "Me" is Ladybug. *Turns teary-eyed* Ladybug is very sorry, Pearl! Very, very sorry!  
Pearlyblue: Oh, well… *blushes a little* …That's okay, Ladybug. It's no big thing.  
Ladybug: *Sniffles* Really? Oh, Pearly is the best!! *Hugs Pearlyblue tightly*  
Pearlyblue: *Choked* S'okay… no biggie… no problem… *cough*  
Wakko: *Appears out of thin air* I wouldn't think you'd think so, Pearl… what with that review left by "Blue Pearl" and all…  
Ladybug: Huh?  
Pearlyblue: *Hisses* Oh, shut up, "Wakkofan"!  
Ladybug: What are you talking about?  
Wakko: *Winks at Pearlyblue* Oh, nothing. Let's thank our reviewers, shall we?  
Ladybug: Yaay!  
Pearlyblue: *Glares at Wakko* Yeah. The Weird ones wishes to thank Niclas… *clears throat* …Blue Pearl, Wakkofan, er… "Me"…   
Ladybug: *Blushes again*  
Pearlyblue:… sailorgaav and Thunder Mistress for their great reviews. Sailorgaav – Thank you for enjoying the Rickert part, and stay tuned to find out who the mysterious "Hot One" is! *dun dun duuunnn*.  
Wakko: Thunder Mistress – Happy holidays to you too, and yes, we know about Charlotte. I find her a total airhead, but her naïve innocence is actually kind of sexy… *coughs* Erm, yeah… So, where did you see Griffith running around naked? *Brings out a lasso* I want details… *licks chops*  



	4. Sylvia wants to fight

Pearlyblue: Everybody remembers the drill, right? If not, check the previous chapter's disclaimer.  
Ladybug: Yeah! Just a parody, The Weird Ones don't ownie Berserk, no harm intended. *Looks up at Pearlyblue* Right?  
Pearlyblue: …Right. *under her breath* "…ownie…"  
Ladybug: *nodnods happily* Yep! And Wakko does not have anyone tied up in her basement, or anywhere else. *Looks up at Wakko* Right?  
Wakko: *Smiles innocently*  
Pearlyblue: *Approaches Wakko* Right, Wakko?  
Wakko: Heee… maybe just a little?  
Pearlyblue: No.  
Wakko: No?  
Ladybug: *Shakes her head* Noo.  
Wakko: *Grins* I guess I don't, then.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  


Chapter four: Sylvia wants to fight.

  
Judeau ran up to Sylvia and caught her by the arm, and she stopped immediately, turning to him with a questioning smile. He couldn't help but smile back, and sheepishly put his hands behind his head.

"Well," he said, a little awkwardly. "I believe you now."

Sylvia frowned cutely. "Believe what?"

"Um… that you're a… a half-demon." He grinned and nodded in the direction they had come from. "That was just incredible, back there. A woman of your size should never have been able to do that – lift two big, strong men right off the ground and keep them up! …quite impressive."

Sylvia was still frowning, and cocked her head to the side in that adorable way of hers.

"Thanks, Judeau… but… you didn't believe me before?"

"Well… It's a little unbelievable."

"Why?"

"Because demons are the stuff of legends and fairy-tales. Nobody's ever seen one, before… and up until just recently, I was quite convinced that they didn't exist."

"No demons?" Sylvia mumbled, half to herself, and then she looked up at Judeau with eyes wide in comprehension. "Well, no wonder then that everybody's looking at me like I'm crazy." She looked away as though struck by a sudden insight.

"That's right!" she gasped, "Papa told me, I can't believe I forgot… Demons and fairies and dragons and stuff are really, really rare here, aren't they? So rare that they're basically only stories?"

He nodded, scratching his neck. "Well, I knew a fairy once. He called himself an 'elf', but he was everything the stories say about fairies. Small, kind, butterfly-like wings… but not all people could see him."

Sylvia blinked. "They couldn't? Weird…"

Judeau took a deep breath and forced the conversation back on track. "Say, Lady Sylvia… would you mind it terribly if I asked you to keep quiet with the half-demon… er… thing…?"

She cocked her head to the side again. "Why? I mean, I can just prove it right away, can't I? Smash something or cut a wound in my hand or… OH! I can cut off my hair! It grows right back out in no time at all!"

"Yes… well… I'm thinking that it could be something of a shock to the guys… and it might just make it a little harder for you to stay here. When people get scared, or worried, they can act really stupid, sometimes. Take my word for it."

"Ohh…" She hung her head, looking a little subdued. "Well, I suppose you're right – I do want to fit in, after all. And make friends." She looked up at him and smiled a little. "Like you."

He felt himself blush slightly again, and tried to cover it with a smile. "Thank you, Lady Sylvia. Er… then, as a friend… I have one more thing to ask."

"What's that?"

"Well, in order for you to be able to blend in better, and interact better with the people here… I think we should say to them that you are… well… confused." He steeled himself in case she would be insulted and try to kick the living crap out of him, but she just frowned and nodded to herself.

"Yeah… I guess that would be best… I don't know much about how humans act and interact and stuff, so then I could get away with making a few mistakes, right?"

He nodded, relieved. "Right."

"Okay." She hooked her arm under his again and resumed walking. "I'll trust you on this. Now show me around this interesting camp!"

"Yes, let's go!" Judeau laughed, caught up in her enthusiasm. "Though there's not a whole lot to see..."

* * *

And after a simple and further uneventful tour of the camp, Judeau and Sylvia had come back to its centre, laughing and chatting lightly.

"Oh," Sylvia interrupted herself, tugging on Judeau's arm and staring off over his shoulder. "Who's that? He's HUGE!"

Judeau turned around and his grin returned. "That's Pippin, he's one of Griffith's senior commanders, like me. OI! PIPPIN!" He turned back to Sylvia. "Let me introduce you. He's big, yeah, but a very nice guy."

Sylvia bounced a little and beamed. "Oh, goodie! A new friend!"

"Pippin, this is Lady Sylvia," Judeau said, as Pippin rose from his task of pressing tent-pegs into the ground, to greet them. "Griffith and I found her down by the river, and she's going to stay with us for a while. Lady Sylvia, this is Pippin, the biggest and probably strongest man in the army."

"Wow…" Sylvia said as Pippin gently took her delicate hand in his. "You're as big as my papa!"

Pippin smiled slightly and gave a small, courteous nod. "Nice to meet you, Lady Sylvia."

"Oh yeah, Pippin," Judeau said, when the huge man and the small woman let go of each other's hands, "Where did you put my tent?"

Pippin pointed and Judeau got up on his toes, looking over the heads of the passing soldiers. "Ah, yeah, I see it. Thanks."

Pippin nodded again. Sylvia frowned up at him.

"You're not very talkative, are you?"

Pippin smiled again, and shrugged. Sylvia regarded him for a moment longer, and then her face lit up with a radiant smile.

"That's okay, I like you!" And she clapped him on the back with such force that he actually took half a step forward and gave a small, surprised grunt.

"Er…" Judeau quickly took Sylvia's arm again and pulled her away. "There's another man you should meet, over there… Guts, the commander of our raiders."

Sylvia immediately turned to look, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "Ooooh, _raiders!_ Sweet!"

As she allowed Judeau to pull her away from Pippin's curious glance, Sylvia turned back towards the huge man and tossed off a cheerful wave. "By the way," she chirped, "You have a really nice butt, Pippin!"

Both Judeau and Pippin froze for a moment, then the giant man quickly turned back to his task, with a faint reddish tinge on his cheeks. Judeau pulled Sylvia a little closer to himself.

"Er… Lady Sylvia… remember that you told me to tell you when you'd done something… er…"

"Stupid?"

"Yes… well… that wasn't very _stupid_, but… a little bit inappropriate."

Sylvia stared up at him, uncomprehending. "What? The compliment?"

"Well… Yes. You _are_ aware that that is basically an… invitation…?"

Sylvia blinked at him. "Invitation to wha-whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Poo it, what is it with you guys and getting compliments and expecting me to sleep with you?! If I say you've got a cute butt, it just means that you've got a cute butt! If I want to sleep with you, I will just say so!"

Judeau felt his eyebrows rise. "O… kay… Sure. Well… we don't do that, here." Then he caught himself and thought better of it. "Well, except for Corkus and other guys like him – but it's considered impolite and crude, and people who try that approach usually ends up… well… alone."

Sylvia seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she sighed.

"What a fuzz. So I can't give people compliments? That's boring… then how do they know that I like them?"

"Well," Judeau conceded, "Just stay clear of complimenting their bodies, and you should be alright."

Sylvia nodded. "Okay." Then she looked up at him again. "Who's this Corkus guy?"

"I'll introduce you to him later, right now, we were going to say hi to Guts, weren't we?"

Sylvia nodded enthusiastically and pulled Judeau's arm. "Oh yeah! _Raider commander!_"

Judeau smiled and let out a high whistle. "Oi! Guts!"

The big, muscular man looked up from his oversized sword, which he had been cleaning, and acknowledged Judeau with a small nod, eyeing Sylvia with some wariness.

"Hey, Judeau," he said when the two of them came up to him. "Who's…?"

"That's a really cute sword you got there!" Sylvia interrupted, Guts blinked – first at being interrupted, then at what she had said.

"Cute?!" he repeated, an incredulous look on his face.

Sylvia nodded. "Yeah! Really cute – and almost as big as my papa's!"

Guts blinked again. "_Almost_ as big?"

"Yeah… his is a little bit broader…"

"'Scuse me, lady," Guts interrupted, "Who the fuck are you?"

Sylvia stopped and an embarrassed grin spread over her beautiful face. "Oh, I'm sorry… I keep doing that…" She held out her hand and took a deep breath. Before Judeau realised what she was about to do, she began reciting her names:

"I am Jade Arvensis Ifolia Tellima Silene Emeraldine Virgaurea Becca…"

"This is Lady Sylvia," Judeau interrupted, stepping in front of her. He leaned down towards Guts and whispered in a voice that Sylvia would not have been able to hear, had she been a mere human:

"We found her down by the river, and we think she's been through something that drove her…well… out of her mind. She's confused, and acts a little strange sometimes." Then he straightened up and threw a quick, apologetic smile at Sylvia. "Sorry to interrupt you, my Lady, but we have many other people to meet, and your names take a long time to recite."

"'S okay," Sylvia chirped and gave him a secretive, but not very hidden, wink. "I guess you're right."

Guts looked from Sylvia to Judeau, and then raised an eyebrow at the blond man, who smiled and shrugged.

"Right," said Guts and turned his attention back to his sword.

"Griffith wants her to stay with us, for a while, until we can help her get back to her home."

"Huh," Guts grunted, feigning disinterest.

A small, delicate hand suddenly landed on his, and he instinctively pulled it away. He looked up into Sylvia's big, beautiful, odd-coloured eyes and froze on the spot. She had squatted down before him with a brilliant, pearly white smile on her face. Unperturbed, she pulled her hand back and asked, her eyes shining with excitement:

"Mr. Guts, is it true that you are the commander of the raiders?"

"Yeah," he said, trying to frown and still unable to look away from her. "What of it?"

Sylvia leaned a little closer to him, and he caught a whiff of her sweet, flowery scent.

"Then you ride at the forefront in every battle, don't you?"

He was trying hard not to look at her rose-coloured lips. "Uh-huh."

She gave a small squeal of joy and then her small hands landed on his again. "Can I fight with you, then? I'm a really good warrior, you know! Trained by the best of the best – my papa!"

It took a few moments for her words to sink in, then his head cleared up and he gave her a very genuine scowl, his voice right back to its normal strength as he growled:

"Absolutely not!"

The smile immediately died on her face, and Guts felt a sudden shame at having been so harsh with her, but he pushed it away and kept the stern scowl on his face.

"Why not?" Sylvia asked him in a small voice, her eyes imploring.

"'Cause it's a ridiculous idea! I'm not having a woman on my team!"

"But…" Sylvia stuttered, "But Lady Caska is fighting, and she's a woman… Right?"

Guts snorted and finally managed to break eye-contact. "Yeah, well, first of all, you're no Caska. You don't look the first thing like a warrior – anyone can tell, just from looking at you, that you're a fancy Lady – And secondly, Caska ain't on my team."

Sylvia leaned back from him and looked down at the ground, her lower lip trembling slightly in a way that made Guts feel five times more guilty than before. A single, crystal clear tear trickled down her flushed cheek as she spoke quietly, her voice trembling as well:

"I am too a warrior." She sniffled and delicately wiped the tear away, but new ones immediately spilled from each eye. "I'm sorry that I can't be like Caska, but I just want to help you fight this stupid war…"

Judeau felt his hands tighten into fists at his sides, as a sudden rage began to boil in his chest. Here was this perfectly beautiful, kind, innocent woman, only wanting to help, and Guts had to go and be so rude to her… making her _cry…_

Judeau almost took a step forward, jaw set and body tense with anger, ready to show Guts what happened when you made such a delicate creature cry in Judeau's presence – but then he caught himself and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

What am I thinking?! he asked himself, I can't take Guts on! And Sylvia is perfectly capable of defending herself! What is this?

Guts was having a similar reaction:

"Hey, hey!" he said, flustered, trying to hush her with both hands. "S-stop crying! I-I didn't mean anything bad! Stop it!"

She defiantly looked up into his eyes again, hiccupping slightly from holding back her tears. "Then what did you m-mean? Huh? That I'm ugly and worthless?" She gave an angry sniff and looked away from him again. "That's okay, that's fine. I'm u-used to it. Everybody back home thinks so, anyway…"

"No, listen!" He grabbed her by the arms and she immediately turned back to him, startled. "That's not what I meant, okay? You're not ugly, okay? I never said that. You're not. And… uh… I'm sure you're… uh… very good at… some stuff." She frowned angrily at him again, and the words almost stumbled over each other when he hurried to amend himself:

"Listen, I don't know you. I don't know what you're good at or not, but I'm sure…" He heaved a desperate sigh, looking around for something good to say, to make her stop looking at him like that. He glanced up at Judeau, but found no help there – the scout was looking down at him with an unusually cold gaze, one eyebrow lifted in a very 'Yes? Let's hear it' way. Guts finally gave up and looked back at the woman he was holding.

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that. I've just… uh… had a bad day, that's all… I'm sorry."

She sniffed once more, gazing up into his face as if searching for something – then that brilliant smile lit up her features again.

"Oh, that's okay, then. I know all about having bad days. I forgive you." She patted his knee amicably, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling back at her.

Judeau felt himself relax again, wondering just what the hell had happened there. Ever since Sylvia showed up, he had been acting more and more like some hormone-crazed teenager. This did not bode well – he had to get himself together again.

* * * 

Griffith had just issued another order and was ready to take a brief pause, when his eyes suddenly alighted upon a most unexpected scene. Some tents away, his raider commander Guts was sitting on a small crate, giant sword across his knees, holding Lady Sylvia by the arms and looking down into her face, speaking earnestly.

A twinge of discomfort and annoyance like he had rarely felt before caused Griffith's eyebrows to knit together. For some reason, the sight of Sylvia together with Guts was far more disturbing than what he'd felt when she had flirted with the field medic.

He didn't want the two of them together like that.

Calmly striding over to the couple, he put on his most amiable smile.

"Ah, Lady Sylvia!"

Guts almost jumped and quickly let go of Sylvia's arms, throwing a glance that was almost guilty up at Griffith.

Griffith smiled and pretended not to have noticed, ignoring the mix of annoyance and satisfaction that rose up within him at this. He offered Sylvia his hand to help her up from her crouched position on the ground. "I trust your tour of the camp is going well?"

Sylvia gave his hand a curious glance, which immediately turned into an understanding smile. She took his hand and rose to her feet.

"Oh, yes, thank you La- Sir Griffith! I'm having fun. You have a very pretty camp, Sir, and a lot of nice people working for you." She gestured over her shoulder at the blond man behind her. "Mr. Judeau has been very good company. He's my friend now!"

"How nice," Griffith said, giving Judeau a quick look that was about as sharp as a dagger. The blond scout seemed momentarily taken aback, and turned a somewhat nervous smile to Sylvia. 

"Yes, she asked me to help her blend in a little better… as a friend. That's it."

"Oh yes." Sylvia nodded serenely, turning to Judeau. "I told you, you're not my type. Stop worrying."

Griffith turned his attention to Guts, and his stomach made a most peculiar lurch as he met the proud warrior's dark gaze.

That's right, murmured a small voice in the back of his mind. There's one other person who can make me feel as unbalanced as Lady Sylvia does.

He ignored the voice and painted a smile onto his face. "Shouldn't you be helping with the raising of the camp, like everybody else?"

Guts dark eyes bore into his for a moment longer, then the tall, muscular man unfolded his legs and got up.

"Yeah," he grunted. "I guess I should." Then he walked off between the tents, almost a head taller than everybody else.

"Bye, Mr. Guts! It was nice meeting you!"

Griffith turned back to Sylvia to find her waving enthusiastically after the departing man. Then she looked over at Griffith with a strange little glint in her eye, which nudged something inside him and made him feel strangely cautious. He almost frowned again, but fought the ludicrous impulse away.

"Well," he said, briskly. "Unfortunately, I still have some business to attend to. If you excuse me…"

"Wait!" Sylvia's delicate hand landed on his arm, and he immediately stopped. "I was meaning to ask you… can I please fight in your army?"

Griffith's eyes widened in surprise, and she hastily continued: "I swear that I'm a really good warrior… I only want to help… I don't want to sit around and be _protected_ anymore… I'm good, I'm really, really good, just give me a chance and I'll prove it, please, I just want to help, please, please, please…"

Griffith stopped her inexhaustible flow of words by gently taking both her hands into his.

"Lady Sylvia," he said calmly, looking deeply into her eyes and letting a small smile play on his lips, "Surely you don't want to risk your life for a cause you're not even involved in. The battlefield is a horrible place, not at all suited for a beautiful lady such as yourself."

"But- but- but…"

"No buts, Lady Sylvia." He put a little more firmness into his voice and resolutely shook his head. "I am sorry, but I can not allow you to enter the battlefield. What would your parents say?"

At that, Sylvia looked away and pulled her hands out of Griffith's hold. She pulled one red-golden curl over her shoulder and played idly with it, sighing in defeat.

"All right," she mumbled. "I won't fight. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Is it so important for you to be useful, Lady Sylvia?"

She looked up at him from under her wispy bangs and nodded sincerely. Griffith rubbed his chin.

"Right, then… what else can you do, that would be useful for an army like mine?"

Sylvia's eyes thoughtfully travelled skywards and she traced her pursed lips with one finger.

"Hmm… Well… I can sew, but that's not very fun… I can cook, though." She turned to Griffith again with a hopeful smile. "I like cooking. Can I cook for you? How many soldiers are there in this army?"

Griffith smiled indulgently. "We are a little more than five thousand men, my Lady."

"_Exactly_ how many, Sir Griffith?"

Griffith raised one admonishing eyebrow. "Really, Lady Sylvia, we are 5086 men, all in all. It will be enough if you cook only for me… or, if you feel up to it, my senior staff of six – myself included. But then you should probably get started right away, because it is only about two and a half hours until dinner."

Sylvia seemed to be calculating, her lips and fingers moving slightly, but she spared Griffith a radiant smile.

"But it… would be okay if I cooked for… a few others, would it?"

"Yes, why not. Enjoy yourself, my Lady."

"Okay," she chirped, "Thank you very much La- Sir Griffith! I'll see you at dinner, then!"

"You will have to cook for yourself as well, Lady Sylvia," he replied. "I expect you to eat with me."

Sylvia nodded absently. "Right, sure. Oh, can I have Judeau with me in the kitchen? I need someone to taste the food…"

Judeau quickly raised his hand. "I volunteer, Sir."

Griffith looked from one to the other, keeping a mask of light amusement on his face. "Really? You want kitchen-duty, Judeau?"

Judeau seemed to consider his reply carefully.

"Well, Sir… I think it is my duty to help a lady when she asks for it… and I did actually promise Lady Sylvia that I would assist her to the best of my ability. I wouldn't like to have to break my promise, Sir."

Griffith raised one sculpted eyebrow. "Did you, now? Well, I wouldn't want to force you to break a promise, Judeau, and Lady Sylvia most likely needs someone with her." His smile widened. "…And since I can't do it, myself, I will entrust this duty to you."

Judeau made a small bow. "Thank you Sir, I will not let you down." He offered Sylvia his arm with a friendly smile. "Shall we?"

She took it, sending Griffith another heart-stopping smile. "Bye then! See you later!"

* * *

When they turned away from Griffith, Judeau noticed a most diabolical grin slowly creep onto Sylvia's previously so angelic features. Even her eyes suddenly shone with an almost malevolent glee – so much so that he had to take a startled step back.

"Umm… Lady Sylvia," he said with a nervous little laugh, "You're not going to cook and eat _me,_ are you? Because you are smiling in a very funny way right now…"

She giggled, and some of her deviousness disappeared. "Don't be silly, I'm not my _mother._"

"Eh-heh-heh… hrm… well, remind me not to get in the way of your mother…"

Her silvery laughter turned a couple more heads as she pulled him along through the camp.

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Pearlyblue: *Opens mailbag, puts on spectacles* It's time forrrr… Reviwer responses!!  
Ladybug: *Wields pompoms* Ladybug's favourite! *Jumps and cheers*  
Wakko: *turns mailbag upside down* Not a whole lot in there, is there?  
Pearlyblue: It's enough. 'Sides, we should be happy for what we get.  
Wakko: *Looks through reviews* Still nothing bad… huh.  
Pearlyblue: Why does that make you sound so depressed?  
Wakko: It would give me a reason to go there and spank them.  
Ladybug: Nooo! Ladybug doesn't want any bad reviewsies! Only happy!  
Wakko: But spanking is so FUN!  
Pearlyblue: Wakko, SHUT UP!  
Ladybug: Spanking is no fun! It hurts!  
Wakko: Well, if you know what you're doing…  
Pearlyblue: For – the – last – time – SHUT – UP!  
Wakko: *pouts* *mutters* frigid b*tch…  
Pearlyblue: Just this once, I'll pretend I didn't hear that.  
Ladybug: Pearl, what's 'frigid'?  
Pearlyblue: Nothing. Let's move on. Vitellio, thank you very much for your good, long review! We're sorry that the chapters are so short, but that might yet change. We're only too happy to entertain! Please keep reading!  
Wakko: *Reads Thunder Mistress' review* You have Guts…? But…? *runs offstage and tears the door to the basement open* GODD*MN IT! Arrrghhh, I have to get stronger chains for that bastard! *eyes narrow dangerously* Next time, Guts… next time…  
Pearlyblue: *Sweatdrops* Errr… yeah, next reviewer. Gundamgirl66 – Thank you for enjoying so much! And sorry to keep you waiting. Hopefully, the next chapter will be quite a lot faster.  
Ladybug: Badenalda wrote a very funny reviewsie! (Pearlyblue: *In the background* _Reviewsie?_) It was sparkly-funny! Ladybug liked it very, very much! Ladybug will pester Pearl and Wakko, in your honour, to make them keep writing! *strikes dramatic pose* Yes, Sir!  
Pearlyblue and Wakko: *sweatdrops* *hugs each other* Oh… dear… god… no…! 


	5. Sylvia cooks dinner

Ladybug: Ladybug likes this chapter! It's full of yummy, yummy food! Ladybug wanted to join the party, but Pearl wouldn't let Ladybug…  
Wakko: She's a killjoy like that, yes. We never get to have any fun.  
Pearlyblue: Shut up! Aren't we self-inserting enough, already? I keep telling you: there's no room for us in this story, if you want to keep it the way it is!  
Ladybug: *Pouts* Awww… Ladybug knows that… but _still_…  
Pearlyblue: No, okay? Wakko, will you please proceed to introduce the chapter?  
Wakko: Will do. Okay, The Weird Ones acknowledges that Kentaro Miura owns Berserk in every way, and we do not wish to gain financially from this parody, in which we use many of Mr. Miura's characters. Our intention is entertainment, and not harm in any way. *Turns to Pearlyblue* Good?  
Pearlyblue: *Thumbs up* Great.  
Wakko: Also, it might be important to point out that we really let go in this chapter. Sylvia's Sue-powers are very noticeable.  
Ladybug: Sparkly! Yaaaay!  
Pearlyblue: Not so much sparkle, is there…?  
Ladybug: Ladybug doesn't care! Ladybug thinks it should be sparkly, so it is sparkly!  
Wakko: *Grins* It's not such a strange logic, actually… "Wakko wants it to be kinky, so it's kinky." I like it.  
Pearlyblue: *Glares* You would. Anyway, the chapter…?  
Wakko: Oh yeah… It's exceptionally weird, this time, but there's a big surprise at the end… so stay tuned. *Grins*  
Ladybug: *Gasps* Oooh, Ladybug knows, Ladybug knows, Ladybug knows! *Jumps up and down, waving her arm*  
Pearlyblue: Yes, of course we know, we're the authors. We don't get to guess, Ladybug!  
Ladybug: *Pouts again* Awwww…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  


Chapter five: Sylvia cooks dinner.

  
Judeau watched with mounting confusion as Sylvia cleared the cooking-tent of its cooks and helpers, with the aid of a previously harmless broom.

"You don't have to work tonight," she told them cheerfully. "Take the evening off – Lady Gri- I mean _Sir_ Griffith has ordered a special dinner!"

The chief cook stubbornly stood his ground, deflecting her broom with a handy cooking-pot. "Young lady," he exclaimed indignantly, his broad face turning red. "Might I remind you that Sir Griffith is not the only man in this camp who needs to eat!"

Sylvia relented her broom-poking for a moment, electing to lean lightly on it instead. "I know that, silly," she said with a brilliant smile, "I'll take care of it – don't worry! You have the evening off! Go! Have fun!"

The chief cook narrowed his eyes at her. "_You'll _take care of it?"

Sylvia laughed, like the sound of delicate silver bells. "Not alone, you silly, silly man! I have a special crew for this. Now, for the last time – you have the evening off, so go enjoy yourself! Shoo!"

The cook huffed, "'Special crew' huh…" but left without further fuzz. Once the tent was empty, Judeau tentatively walked over to Sylvia.

"Who are this 'special crew' you were talking about?"

She turned towards him with a big grin on her face. "You, silly!"

Judeau balked. "Me?! You and me?! Cook for over _five thousand men?!_ Are you out of your…?"

She silenced him by pinching his nose. "You worry too much, Judeau. And anyway, I couldn't very well have let the cooks stay and help now, could I?"

"Why not?" Judeau asked, rubbing his nose.

"'Cause you told me to hide that I was a half-demon, didn't you?"

"And what _ever_ does that have to do with kitchen-duty?!"

Sylvia poked his nose again. "Bip! You'll have to see!" When she turned away from him again, tough, she froze on the spot and gasped, "Oh, I almost forgot!"

A push and a shove later, Judeau was standing outside the tent, not quite clear on how that had happened. He turned back to the tent, meaning to poke his head back in and ask, but just as he reached out for the flap, Sylvia stepped out.

She struck a cute little pose, grinned and said, "Ta-daah!"

Sylvia was suddenly wearing an apron. A yellow apron, with a heart-shaped top and red frills around the edges. On the chest was written, in curly, red letters: 'Kiss the cook'. Her hair was tied back in a long braid and a red-and-yellow kerchief tied around her head was keeping her bangs back. Judeau could only stare.

"Well?" she asked after a moment of silence, twirling once before him. "What do you think?"

He blinked. "It's… nice. You look good. Where did you…? How…?"

"Oh, I had it with me," she chirped, "You know, just in case. You think it looks good?"

He nodded, still feeling a little stunned. "Yeah… It's cute."

"Cute?" She squealed happily. "Oh, thank you! You're so sweet!" And before he could react, she had stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she swirled around and disappeared into the cooking-tent, leaving a temporarily paralysed and warmly blushing Judeau outside. It took him a few seconds to get back to himself, and once he had, he hurried to follow her into the tent.

Grown man, Judeau. Grown man. Act like one – get yourself together. It's just a – whoa!

Inside the tent, Sylvia had already started cooking. Pots were coming to a boil on every fire, meat was being chopped, flour was drifting through the air, and an enticing smell of frying meat and spices had already begun to spread through the large tent.

"Here, hold this!" Sylvia's voice chirped in his left ear, and a small bowl was pressed into his hands. He looked down into it and saw a thick, brown paste with a large spoon in it – still moving, as if stirring slowly.

"What's…?" But the moment he opened his mouth, he heard an enthusiastic "Taste this!" and felt a small finger slip in between his lips, covered in something sweet and sticky – which he immediately choked on, of course.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sylvia worriedly exclaimed, patting his back. "I didn't mean to surprise you like that!"

"S'okay," he coughed, "s'okay… whoo boy…"

"Really? You're okay? I'm sorry, I'll give you a better warning next time!"

He looked up at her and smiled. "Yes, thanks. That would be nice."

"Okay!" And she was gone, the bowl she had been holding remaining in mid-air, the spoon in it still stirring. Judeau looked down into his own hands and noticed that he was no longer holding his bowl. He glanced over at the hovering bowl beside him again, but it was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Judeau surveyed the interior of the kitchen. At first glance, it looked as though pots were stirring themselves, dough turning on its own accord, and a strange, red-and-yellow blur flashing from spot to spot. Then, when he looked closer, Judeau saw that the red-and-yellow blur was, in fact, Sylvia – moving so fast that she appeared to be in several places at once, tasting something here, stirring something there, smelling something on the other side of the tent.

And then she was in front of him again, holding a small bowl of what appeared to be thick, white sauce. She stuck her finger into the bowl and scooped up some of its contents, holding it up before his face.

"Here, taste this!"

"Uhh… Lady Sylvia, I don't think… shouldn't…"

"Oh, come on," she said, firmly pushing the finger into his mouth. "I need to know what you think!"

"Mph…!" Judeau felt another blush coming on, and hung his head slightly to hide behind his bangs, glancing up at Sylvia.

"So?" she asked, unthinkingly licking the rest of the sweet sauce off of her own finger. Judeau almost choked again.

Grown man, grown man, grown man…

"It's… good. Sweet." He finally started to notice the taste, and gladly focused on that impression instead. "Hm… strange taste… good, but unusual – very… soft. And sweet. I like it."

Sylvia beamed. "Goodie!" And then she turned into a blur again.

"Um… Lady Sylvia…" Judeau tentatively tried to catch her attention. "About that tasting… I don't think it's very appro…"

"Can't – talk – right – now – busy – cooking!" Sylvia's voice came from a new direction with every word.

* * *

And he didn't get a chance to address the subject, either, despite several more 'tastes' and brief conversations about them. When two hours had passed, Judeau was so assaulted by impressions that he could hardly remember what it was that he had wanted to say in the first place.

That was why he didn't object when Sylvia lifted the table he was sitting on and carried it outside, twittering something about "It's lovely weather for eating out, isn't it?" It did, however, come as something of a shock when she suddenly threw the table to the ground and he rolled off, spilling out the entire bowl of sliced apples that he'd been munching on.

"Ouch!"

Sylvia was by his side in an instant. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Judeau! I'm really sorry! I guess I… shouldn't've tried to lift that big, heavy table all by my little old self…" She leaned down and added, in a slightly panicked whisper, "Especially not when Lady Griffith is watching!"

Judeau looked up at her, rubbing his sore backside. "Lady…? Ahh… Hello, Griffith!"

Griffith stopped beside them, looking down at Judeau and Sylvia with a very perplexed look on his aristocratic face.

"I thought I was… going to check in on your progress," he drawled, arching one delicate, white eyebrow at them.

"It's going fine, Lad- Sir Griffith!" Sylvia hastily replied, pushing one of her bangs back up under the kerchief. "I'm just about finished… was just about to set the table…" She giggled nervously and stood up, smoothing down her food-stained apron front. "I thought it would be nice to eat outside… what do you think?"

But Griffith was studying her apron with puzzled amusement.

"Kiss… the cook…?"

Sylvia tugged at the apron, as if trying to read it herself, and then looked up and laughed nervously again. "Yes, I… I thought it was… cute. Isn't it? Cute?"

"It looks good on you, Lady Sylvia," he said with a smile. "But I can't say that it's quite as cute as yourself."

She giggled and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You big silly…"

Griffith glanced over at Judeau, who had just gotten up and was still surreptitiously rubbing his backside.

"Do you need any help with the tables, Lady Sylvia? Perhaps someone a little stronger than my scout commander over there…"

Sylvia threw a glance over her shoulder and then beamed at Griffith. "Oh yes, please! Can I have Pippin? He's really strong!"

"Certainly. I'll tell him to report here right away."

"Thank you so much!" Sylvia gushed, but before he could turn away, she placed one flour-covered little hand on his arm. "Oh… and… can you please tell people to stay away from that field behind the cooking-tent? I'm going to set up the tables there, and I want it to be a surprise! Nobody can see!" A secretive, mischievous little grin sneaked onto her face. "Not even you, Sir Griffith."

He held her gaze for a while, but finally smiled with an indulgent nod. "All right, Lady Sylvia. As you please."

* * *

Pippin came, and he helped Sylvia carry all the tables out onto the meadow, while Judeau was left to keep an eye on the food. She chatted happily and endlessly with the huge man, who nodded, smiled, and occasionally added to the conversation.

Judeau couldn't help but feel that the big man was taking the Sylvia-business a lot better than he had. He was surprised to find a hint of jealousy coiling in his stomach, and immediately expelled it. Sylvia was not his business, nor did he really want her to be.

Finally, Sylvia and Pippin had carried all the food out, and Judeau helped with the last trays. When he put his burdens down, however, and looked up at the loaded tables, his jaw just dropped. How could she possibly have made all of this, in less than two hours, using only what was in the cooking-tent and the provision carts? 

Impossible.

He exchanged an incredulous look with Pippin, and the giant man shrugged slowly.

"Dinner's ready!" Sylvia's cheerful voice rang out behind them, accompanied by the gentle tinkling of a triangle, which she was holding in one hand. She had also, somehow, managed to clean up, get rid of the apron and the kerchief, and done her hair up in small braids from her temples tied up behind her head. There were also small flowers in her hair, apparently picked fresh from the meadow, though Judeau had not seen her take the time to do so.

He found a silly half-smile on his lips and shook his head. Why was he even surprised, anymore?

And from all over the camp, soldiers came trudging in response to the dinner bell. Sylvia stood like a hostess in front of the cooking-tent, smiling and kindly directing them to go around, to the meadow. The men gave her and each other a few puzzled looks, but obeyed – and the moment the first few in the line turned the corner, there was an instant of complete silence, followed by eager whooping.

"Holy HELL! Look at all that food!"

"Where did it all come from?"

"Dude, who cares?! Can you _smell_ that?"

"Man, I'm slobberin' already!"

Judeau grinned at the guys running past him, and walked over to the table that Sylvia had designated as the 'commanders' table', only to find a simple, yellow-ish note on each plate, with a name cutely scribbled on it in red letters. He found the one marked 'Judeau' – it had a little red heart in the upper left corner – and sat down, noticing that Sylvia had placed herself next to him. Pippin sat down almost at the other end of the table, picked up his name-note and smiled at it. Judeau thought he saw the big man's face turn a slight shade redder. Then Griffith arrived, trailed by Caska, Guts and Rickert.

Sylvia was walking ahead of them, waving and almost bouncing again, eagerly chirping "This way, this way!" Judeau couldn't help but snicker – the looks on their faces were priceless.

When Sylvia pulled out Griffith's chair for him, the white-haired commander turned to her, incredulously shaking his head.

"Lady Sylvia… I don't understand… this is truly amazing – how could you possibly create all this in such short time? And where did all these tables come from? Where did you get… How did you…?"

She then did something really strange: She leaned in closer to Griffith, shielding her mouth with one hand – though Judeau could still hear her – and whispered:

"Sssh, It's a plothole."

Griffith blinked at her, his eyes wide and clearly not comprehending, but she patted him on the shoulder and gave him another radiant smile.

"Don't worry, Sir Griffith, I can explain it later. Right now, you just need to eat and enjoy!"

With a courteous nod of acceptance, Griffith sat down, and Sylvia ushered all the others to sit as well. "Don't wait! Dig in! There's enough for everybody!"

The steady stream of mercenaries welling in onto the meadow certainly would not let themselves be told twice, but were loudly announcing what part they wanted to try first:

"Look at that heap of chicken legs! I want some of those!"

"What's this? Snake?"

"No, you dimwit, that's eel. It's really fancy, I've only seen it once when we were…"

"There's a whole freakin' mountain of fruit over there!"

"Not only there – look! There's one at every table!"

"Whoa, I 'ad no idea 'ere were fishies o' tha' colour, let alone tha' _size!_ An' I've been a fisher, once!"

"What are those yellow things around it?"

"Fey're fery thour… but good viv the fith"

"Look! Haha! I've got PIES!"

Sylvia beamed as she sat down next to Judeau, with Griffith on her other side. "They really seem to like it!" she whispered eagerly.

Judeau smiled back at her. "Who wouldn't?"

Then his heart made an unexpected flip as Caska sat down on his other side.

"You two have gotten quite friendly, haven't you?" she said, giving him an unsurprised look. He smiled, trying to buy time while thinking of the right thing to say, and getting the dryness out of his mouth.

But Caska didn't wait for a reply. She picked up the name-note and turned it towards Sylvia.

"How cute," she said, most insincerely, "A little flower in the corner."

Sylvia nodded happily. "Uh-huh! Pippin got a teddy-bear, Griffith got a little hawk, Guts got a sword ("Is that what this's supposed to be," muttered Guts from the other side of Griffith), Rickert got a star, cause he's just as cute as they are (Rickert blushed again, firmly looking away from Sylvia as he sat down next to Caska), and Judeau got a little heart! 'Cause I like him best!"

Caska nodded to herself with a small smile. "Really, now." 

Judeau wanted to bang his head against the table.

Sylvia nodded again. "Yep! He's been _really_ friendly!"

Judeau tried to pretend that his ears weren't burning, as he felt every eye within earshot turn to him. Caska sounded faintly amused as she quietly murmured:

"I bet." She leaned over closer to him, and he almost had to close his eyes as he felt her breath against his ear. "So you've got yourself a new girlfriend, have you? Congratulations. You're sure to be the envy of the camp, now."

If I turn my head now, Judeau thought, her lips will be right… he tried not to think about it, but then the words she had just said reached his brain, and he did turn his head – but leaned back and forced a smile onto his face.

"Now, don't jump to conclusions, Caska. Lady Sylvia and I are friends, that's all – She asked me to help her blend in around here, and I said I would. So she declared that I was now her new best friend." He shrugged. "That's the whole story, and I'm sticking to it."

Caska didn't look too convinced, but at that moment Sylvia squealed happily and stretched across the table, towards six golden balls that Judeau had thought was simple decoration.

"Sir Griffith, you just gotta try this! They're called blood apples and they're from where I live. I had some with me, luckily enough…"

Griffith cautiously eyed the golden fruit in her hand. "Blood apples? I've never heard of such a fruit before."

"Nah, they're rare. They only grow on old battlefields, you see, and if you eat too many, you'll have nightmares."

Griffith gave her a perplexed look. She smiled and pleaded with him:

"Oh, come on… have a bite, at least… for me?"

She was holding the apple almost to his lips now, and he couldn't possibly refuse those pleading eyes. He took the golden fruit from her and smiled.

"All right." 

Sylvia beamed happily at him and, feeling oddly pleased at having made her smile like that, Griffith took a bite.

The taste was exquisite. Unlike anything he had ever tasted before. It was like the finest wine, the sweetest grape, the juiciest apple. It was like spring, and birdsong, and clear, starlit nights. Fresh like newly fallen snow, refreshing like a cold bath on a hot summer day. 

His eyes widened and he looked at Sylvia as if he had never seen her before. "This… this…" He couldn't find the words to express what he wanted to say, but she just smiled at him.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

He turned to Guts and wordlessly handed the big man another blood apple. Guts took it, but hesitated to eat.

"Your… your face…" the big man stuttered awkwardly. Griffith brought his hand up to the small trickle of fruit juice that ran from the corner of his mouth and was startled to find that it was the same dark crimson as freshly spilt blood.

"Yeah," said Sylvia from behind him. "That's why they're called '_blood_ apples'. It's not real blood, though, you silly."

With varying degrees of hesitation, everybody at the table tasted their blood apple, and each had a reaction similar to Griffith's. They were gone all too soon, and Pippin shyly leaned forward over the table, looking at Sylvia, and asked in his deep, dark voice:

"Do you have any more?"

"Sorry Pippin," Sylvia answered. "I don't… and it's really best if you don't get any more. I'm not sure exactly how many blood apples a huma- errr… you guys should eat. And I don't have any more."

With a few sighs and grumbles, the party resumed eating of the other food – which was very good in itself, and the mood was soon back on top again.

"Psst! Judeau!" Sylvia hissed after a while, turning the blond man's attention away from his polite conversation with Caska. Pressing a small bowl into his hands, she gave him a not-very-subtle wink and continued whispering: "I made this especially for you…" She winked again. "…And Caska!"

He glanced down and saw that the bowl was full to the brim with strawberries, covered in some unfamiliar, rich brown substance. He gave Sylvia a questioning look, and she winked at him again. "It's chocolate-covered strawberries! They're really romantic and good!" He frowned at her, and she winked once more. "Dark sweets for a dark sweet, no?"

"You're not very good at flirting, you know," came Caska's voice from behind him. Judeau closed his eyes and wished that the ground would just rise up and swallow him.

"But I'm not flirting…" Sylvia sounded very confused. "Judeau, was I flirting again?"

Only a severe exercise of willpower prevented Judeau from banging his head against the table, this time. He opened his eyes and gave Sylvia a serious glare.

"I want to talk to you later," he growled under his breath. Sylvia's confused frown deepened a little.

"Okay. But… are you going to give her the sweets, or what?" She nudged him. "Go on!"

He straightened up and turned back to Caska, painting a genuine smile onto his face.

"Actually, she was giving me this." He held the bowl up for Caska to see. "She wants me to share them with you. Have one."

Caska frowned down into the bowl. "What is that… on them…?"

"Chocolate, she called it. I don't know, I've never tried it before."

"Then you try it first, she's _your_ girlfriend."

He stifled a sigh and obediently took one of the berries and popped it into his mouth. It was surprisingly good – the strawberry was ripened to perfection, and the slight bitterness of the 'chocolate' complimented it excellently.

"Mmm…" Judeau mumbled, taking another and holding it out to Caska. "Mthey're mreally good!"

Caska regarded him suspiciously for a moment, but took the berry nonetheless and tasted it gingerly. Right when her eyes began to widen appreciatively, Sylvia tugged on Judeau's sleeve again.

"Not like that!" she hissed. "It's a lot more cute if you give them to her like _this!_" And by way of demonstration, she pressed one chocolate-covered strawberry against his lips. There was a small, collective gasp all around, and Judeau's ears almost caught fire.

"Yeah..." mumbled Caska behind him. "Not your girlfriend _at all._"

Sylvia leaned out and peered around Judeau. "Exactly!" she chirped, "We're just friends!"

"Riiight…"

Judeau resolutely took the strawberry from Sylvia with a strained smile. "Thank you, Lady Sylvia."

She tilted her head to side in confusion, but before he could say anything more, her eyes locked onto something behind his back and widened as if in shock.

"Oh my GOD," she hissed, "It's HIM!"

She forcefully grabbed on to Judeau's arm and began shaking it, still whispering loudly: "Who is he, who is he, who is he, who _is_ he?"

Completely taken by surprise, Judeau turned around, just in time to hear a hoarse but happy voice loudly declare:

"So this is where you've all been hiding! Where the flying fuck did you get all this food! Hah, did the old chief cook finally kick it, and we got one that could actually cook instead?"

It was Corkus, arriving late along with a few others of his team, all noisily requesting their comrades to save some for them, despite the obvious overabundance of food all around. Judeau turned back to Sylvia in confusion. "Who?"

She squeezed his arm. "That one! The tall, dark, handsome one, with the nose! Ohhhh!"

"Ow, Sylvia, ow! You're breaking my arm!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry! But please tell me who he is! You promised to introduce me!"

Rubbing his arm, Judeau glanced over his shoulder again.

"The one with the… nose?"

"Yes!"

"And dark hair?"

"_Yes!_"

"The one with the hoarse voice?"

"Ooooh, YES!"

"_Corkus?!_"

Her eyes widened and began to sparkle like they had never done before. "Is that his name?" She heaved a dreamy sigh. "That sounds so _manly!_ …Oh my god, he's coming over here!"

And so he was. Having snatched up a chicken leg and a big, red apple, Corkus was slowly walking up to the table, alternately taking bites from either. Sylvia was almost trying to hide behind Judeau, squeezing his arm painfully hard again.

"Hey Griffith!" Corkus called, waving the chicken leg, "Awesome food! Hey Judeau, who's the babe?"

Sylvia immediately went beet red under Corkus' appreciating gaze, and squirmed as though she was suddenly sitting on an anthill. Judeau, still unable to believe what was happening here, kept looking hesitantly between Corkus and Sylvia. Griffith took the cue, instead:

"This is Lady Sylvia, Corkus. She will be staying with us for a while." His voice and face were completely void of the incredulous tentativeness that had all the other occupants of the table in a stunned silence, but he was not unaffected, himself.

So maybe she really wasn't flirting with Judeau, after all, he thought and fought off a small frown. But really – She is attracted to _Corkus?_ Tsk… she must be even more confused than I previously suspected.

The hook-nosed mercenary seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had become the table's centre of attention, instead leering down at Sylvia's ample bosom.

"Niiice… we're finally gonna have a _real_ woman around."

Sylvia just giggled stupidly, but Judeau noticed how the air around Caska suddenly became very frosty.

Sylvia finally seemed to get herself together – at least somewhat – and rose from her seat.

"Mi- mister Co- Corkus," she stuttered, still blushing furiously and with a silly smile on her face, "I- I put your seat o-over there… let me show you…" She stumbled over the legs of her own chair when she tried to walk away from it, but quickly steadied herself and blushed even deeper. "S- sorry…"

Corkus sent Judeau a 'Did you see that? I'm half in already!' –look and followed her, checking out her swinging hips from behind. When she turned around, he made no effort to hide what he'd been looking at – and Sylvia's face deepened even further in colour. She pulled his chair out a little bit and cleared her throat.

"Well… he- here it is… I… I hope you like it."

Corkus walked up closer to her and waggled his eyebrows. "It'd be better if it was next to you, toots."

Sylvia looked up into his face with fluttering eyelids. "Really?" she asked breathlessly, "You… you really mean that?"

"Fuck, yeah." He grinned and sank down into the chair, still leering at her. "In fact, why don't you sit on my lap?" And his grin widened as he patted his thighs invitingly.

"Really?!" Sylvia gushed exuberantly, and promptly plopped down into Corkus' lap. If there had been a sound for dropping jaws, the meadow would have resounded with it. Even Corkus blinked in surprise, before a giddy grin wrought its way onto his face.

"Well, that was just a joke, you know, but if-"

"Oh my god!" Sylvia gasped, flying to her feet with both hands clasped firmly over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I keep doing that… misunderstanding… so sorry… ohgodohgodhogod…" She ran over to fetch her own chair, completely missing Corkus' weak protests. The hook-nosed mercenary slapped his own forehead, mouthing a curse.

Meekly returning with her chair, Sylvia sank down at the edge of the table, next to Corkus, and didn't seem to be able to look up into his face. "'M sorry," she mumbled.

Corkus tried his best to turn the situation around again. "It's no problem, really. I mean, if you really want to sit on my lap, who the hell am I to argue? Huh?"

She twiddled with the hem of her tunic and cleared her throat again. "It's okay, you don't have to try to be nice. Hrm. So, how do you like the food?"

Corkus heaved a defeated sigh and turned back to the table. Then he looked from the food to Sylvia, finally making the connection.

"Hey… you cooked this?"

Sylvia nodded, still blushing and not looking up.

Corkus looked around in amazement. "Whoooa… nice job! Are you the new chief cook, or what?"

Sylvia finally looked up at him through her bangs and gave a little smile. "Well…" she mumbled shyly, "Really only just this once… so far… it depends…"

Corkus sampled one of the fishes, speaking as he chewed:

"Mwell, you schould cook efery fuckin' day! Thisch is jusht fuckin' _incredible!_"

Sylvia smiled again. "Thank you. Oh!" She suddenly turned with some of her usual cheerfulness, and grabbed one of the smaller bowls. "That fish goes a lot better with this sauce – here, taste!"

She had dipped her finger into the sauce and was holding it up to Corkus' lips. Corkus just stared at her as if he couldn't believe his luck. Judeau made half an attempt to call Sylvia's attention, but realised that he was far too late… again. He leaned back, regretting that he hadn't tried harder to explain that gesture's great possibility for misinterpretation, before – he was convinced that Sylvia had no idea of just how flirty she was being. Then again, she did seem to want to flirt with Corkus, for some odd reason…

And Judeau was quite certain that he was not the only one who felt a strange surge of jealousy at that thought.

A big grin broke out on Corkus' face, but he barely got to say more than: "Hey, are you…" before Sylvia happily pushed her finger into his mouth, chirping:

"Why are you hesitating? It's _good!_"

An odd silence had begun to spread outwards from the commanders' table. Men at the nearby tables were turning away from their food, eyes popping, jaws forgetting to chew. A few knives slipped out of un-attentive fingers. Corkus' eyes boggled at Sylvia.

"See?" Sylvia cheerfully purred. "Wasn't that good?"

Corkus blinked at her, momentarily stunned, lips slightly pursed, then grinned as though he'd just won himself a kingdom. "Baby…" he laughed hoarsely, leaning in towards her…

"Corkus, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Every eye turned to Griffith, who had risen from his seat. There was no emotion in his clear voice, nor any on his sculpted face, but there was something about the way he stood – with his back as straight as if he was standing to attention, and his deep blue eyes unblinkingly fixed on Corkus – which exuded a very commanding presence.

Corkus guiltily looked from Griffith to Sylvia and back again. "But I…" he tried weakly, pointing at Sylvia. "…I'm… kind of busy, here…"

"Now," Griffith said, his voice only slightly more authoritative, "It is important, and urgent."

"Oh poo," muttered Sylvia under her breath, "Just when I was starting to have fun."

Corkus looked like he wanted to plead further with Griffith, but knew better. He sighed deeply and got up, turning back to Sylvia with a grin that he probably thought of as 'charming'.

"I'll be right back, babe. Stay where you are."

Sylvia smiled radiantly up at him and waved.

"I'll be waiting!" she said in a singsong voice, and with a last, mournful look over his shoulder, Corkus followed Griffith away from the meadow.

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Pearlyblue: Okay, let's introduce our readers to another annoying feature, shall we? Wakko, can you guess what I'm thinking about?  
Wakko: *Leers* Oooh, but Pearrrll…  
Pearlyblue: Stop. It. You know what I _meant!_  
Wakko: Killjoy. Yeah, my guess is, since you're asking ME… review whoring?  
Ladybug: Whoring? What's that? Is it like riding? "Horsing"?  
Pearlyblue: Errrrr… *Blushes* something like that, yes.  
Wakko: *Grins* But with one crucial difference, though…  
Pearlyblue: Shut up, Wakko. Please. Anyway, would you like to demonstrate, Ladybug? Like I told you?  
Ladybug: Uh huh! *Clears throat* Ummm… "We wants fifty-seven and a half more reviewsies, or we're not gonna write the next chapter! So REVIEW!!! OR ELSE!!!"  
Pearlyblue: Well… er… good example.  
Ladybug: But Pearl, how are we going to get that many reviewsies? It's impossible…  
Wakko: Yeah, let's just say five.  
Pearlyblue: But NO! It was just for demonstration, not an actual request!  
Ladybug: *Looks confused* Ladybug doesn't understand…?  
Pearlyblue: *Whams head against wall* Y'know, never mind. Let's just get on to reviewer responses, okay?  
Ladybug: Yaaay!  
Wakko: Okay, I go first! Thunder Mistress was fast, this time. *Clears throat* Sister, let me get one thing straight, here! I – did – not – cry! I _don't_ cry! Anybody who told you I cried has been lying to you! Anyway, Guts is back where he belongs…  
Pearlyblue: What?  
Wakko: …Err… back in the story, of course. Where else would he be? *Turns to Ladybug* By the way, where did you put my demon-strength restraining chains?  
Ladybug: Umm… Oh! Those! *Picks out a long, heavy chain from her ladybug-shaped purse* Here! Thanks for letting Ladybug borrow them!  
Wakko: *Stares* What… have you done with my chains?!  
Ladybug: *Beams* They were boring, so Ladybug prettied them up! Does Wakko like it?  
Wakko: *Near tears* But… but they're… pink… and- and- and _fuzzy!_  
Ladybug: *Nods happily* Uh huh!  
Pearlyblue: Okay, never mind that, we have reviews to respond to.  
Ladybug: Oooh! *jumps up and down* Ladybug's turn, Ladybug's turn, Ladybug's turn!  
Pearlyblue: Yes, already! Do it!  
Ladybug: Yaaay! Um, okay, thank you gundamgirl66 for your reviewsie! Ladybug thinks Rickert is cute too! *Giggles*  
Pearlyblue: Okay, my turn. There was one for each of us this time! Niclas: We are glad to be entertaining you, but really, what kind of creature do you think Sylvia is? She wouldn't eat humans! …Hopefully…  
Ladybug: Uh, nooo… wasn't that her mother who did that icky sort of thing?  
Wakko: *Sobs over her pink, fuzzy chains* I will never let her near my stuff ever again…  
Pearlyblue: *Mumbles* Ooh, I've never heard _that_ before… 


	6. Sylvia heartbroken

Pearlyblue: Oh yes, before we start this chapter, there's a little something I would like to get off my chest. *Puts glasses on* See, this is a _parody._ Many of the things we say or let happen in the story are meant to be only for fun, and hopefully often the opposite of what one might expect from a serious Mary-Sue. Parody, okay? *Gets a little irate* Which means, among other things, that when we say "We're giving you an example of what review-whoring looks like" we're not actually review whoring! We weren't asking for five reviews – nor fifty-seven and a half reviews – before we were going to post this chapter!  
Wakko: Okay, Pearl, take a deep breath… now let it out slowly… and moan…  
Pearlyblue: WAKKO!  
Wakko: Okay, yeah, sorry. I was just trying to help… *Grins* …But seriously, calm down. I think the people got that – they're just playing along, y'know? *Takes Pearlyblue by the shoulders and start leading her away*  
Pearlyblue: Maybe so, yes, but I still felt that it needed to be said, okay?!  
Wakko: *Patpats comfortingly* Yes, yes, it's okay… It's okay… You just need a nice, warm cup of tea right now… and a good shag.  
Pearlyblue: *Sputters*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  


Chapter six: Sylvia heartbroken.

"What, Griffith? What is it? What's so important?" Corkus demanded, as forcefully as he dared, as he followed Griffith around the cooking tent. The pale, aristocratic man ignored him, however, until they had the big, spacious tent well between themselves and the party in the meadow. Then he turned around, blue eyes serious, to face Corkus.

"It's about Lady Sylvia," he said calmly. "I couldn't help but notice that you were… quite taken with her."

"Yeah." Corkus grinned, leaning closer to Griffith for emphasis: "Have you _seen_ her?"

"Yes, she is a very attractive woman… and that is part of the problem."

"Huh? What problem?"

Griffith heaved a light sigh and stepped closer to Corkus. When he was almost right under Corkus' nose, he looked up with eyes so stern that the hook-nosed mercenary involuntarily took half a step back. "Listen closely, Corkus: You have to stay away from Lady Sylvia."

Corkus felt as though he'd taken a blow to the stomach. He immediately reacted with anger.

"What?" he hissed, but was immediately interrupted by Griffith's still impeccably calm voice:

"First of all, I know that it seems as though she is taken in by you as well, but I must still ask you to refuse any advances she might make. You see, she is not in her right mind."

Corkus glowered angrily down at his commander, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

"Who cares? With a body like that, I don't fucking care if she so thinks she's a horse!" He almost acidly added 'And why do you think she's crazy, anyway? Because she liked _me?_' but was luckily enough interrupted again.

"Maybe you don't care, Corkus, but I'm quite sure that her _noble family_ would. She has been separated from them – probably through some accident or ambush, because when we found her, she had torn clothes and had been bleeding – And it is our duty to return her to where she belongs. Unharmed."

Corkus anger froze in cold realisation. Of course. He should have known. Guys like him just didn't get that lucky.

Griffith stepped away from Corkus, but kept his blue eyes locked on the stunned man.

"Just think of it, Corkus," he said in a gentle, reasonable voice, "and I'm sure you will see reason. What if Lady Sylvia returns to her loving family… pregnant? That would reflect badly on the entire Band of the Hawk… And I don't think I would be able to save your skin if, or when, the Lady were to tell her caretakers which man had put her in that precarious situation."

Corkus looked up at Griffith and tried to swallow with his suddenly parched mouth, rubbing his throat as if he could already feel the noose tighten.

"Yeah," he croaked. "I'd be hanged. For sure."

Griffith regarded him with a compassionate little smile on his face.

"You understand my concern, don't you?"

Corkus looked away, still feeling chilled and numb, grunting, "Yeah." Then he sighed and grinned insincerely at the ground.

"She was way out of my league anyway, wasn't she?"

Griffith walked up to him and patted his shoulder. "I'm glad you could see reason, Corkus. Let's rejoin the others."

"Nah," Corkus muttered, not feeling very enthusiastic at the thought of going back to the gorgeous woman he knew was waiting for him, knowing that he would have to be a complete jerk towards her – and probably get stared at and scorned by his comrades like never before. "I think I'll just shove off to bed."

Griffith watched Corkus' slumped figure walk away in among the crowded tents, thumbs firmly tucked in under his belt, and occasionally kicking at the ground. It gave Griffith an odd sense of satisfaction to see this, but he didn't let it show as he turned back to the feast.

* * *

Sylvia eagerly glanced around for any sign of Corkus, when Griffith calmly came striding back. Everyone else had returned to their food and their conversations, but she had not managed to eat a single bite. She was idly poking around in her food and occasionally squirming in her seat.

As Griffith sat down again, she waited for a moment, gazing off into the deepening dusk, before she tentatively spoke up:

"Er… Sir Griffith…?"

Griffith turned to her with an amiable smile. "My Lady?"

"Er… where… did Mr. Corkus go?"

"I am afraid that he had to attend to some pressing business elsewhere."

At hearing that, Sylvia wilted like a flower, hanging her head and disappointedly gazing down into her own lap. "Oh," she mumbled quietly. "Well, I guess it was important…"

With a small, sad sigh, Sylvia then moved her chair back to her previous position between Griffith and Judeau, sitting there and sighing to herself while doodling hearts in the spilt wine.

Judeau couldn't help himself: He leaned back, suppressing the irrational urge to hug Sylvia until she smiled again, and grinned at Caska.

"So," he murmured, indicating the absent-minded Sylvia. "Do you still think that she's my girlfriend?"

Caska glanced between the two of them, before leaning in towards him and whispering:

"I do believe that she's insane."

Judeau just shook his head with a quiet laughter. Then Sylvia apparently decided to try to cheer up. She reached out for a rich brown, creamy pastry that nobody so far had been able to recognise, much less dared to taste, and broke off a small piece.

"So, Sir Griffith," she said, holding the piece up to Griffith's mouth, "Have you tried this creamy chocolate cake, yet? It's very good, I swear!"

Griffith's eyebrows both flew up, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Sylvia immediately took the opportunity to push the small piece of cake into his mouth.

"Isn't it?" she asked perkily, licking the crumbs off her fingers. Again just a little bit too late, Judeau tapped Sylvia's shoulder.

"That's right, Lady Sylvia, I meant to talk to you about that… tasting… thing."

Sylvia turned to Judeau, curious. "Hm? What?"

"Well…" He tried to consider the company, and Sylvia's obvious innocence, and tried to figure out a way to say what needed to be said without embarrassing her or himself too much. "It's like this… do you remember that little talk we had about complimenting people…"

Sylvia blushed a little. "…Yes…"

"Well… letting someone… taste something off of your finger… is actually _quite_ the invitation."

Sylvia's eyes boggled incredulously. "You can't be gosh-darn serious!! _What_ about that is in any way an _invitation?!_"

"Well… it just is, okay? Take my word for it?"

Sylvia's voice dropped to an angry hiss: "You people are so totally obsessive, aren't you? Give me one good reason why that could in any way be an _invitation!_"

Judeau sighed and felt a blush coming on. "All right… okay… well…" he cleared his throat and glanced around for help, but everyone within earshot – Caska, Griffith and Guts – were watching with keen interest.

"All right. Let me put it like this… in what other… intimate situation… does a long object…" Caska was trying to stifle her giggles behind him, and amusement played in Griffith's blue eyes. Guts was grinning widely. Judeau blushed and cleared his throat again. "…enter… a wet place?"

Caska had to leave her chair for a moment, shaking with silent laughter as she staggered away. Rickert followed her with a confused gaze. Guts gave a long snort and leaned back, out of Judeau's sight.

There was even a hint of laughter in Griffith's voice as the white-haired man said: "Well put, Judeau." – And took a deep swig of wine to hide his wide smile.

Sylvia blinked in innocent confusion at Judeau's furiously red face for a few moments, and then her eyes grew very big. Blushing almost as intensely as Judeau, she pressed her delicate hands against her cheeks and gasped.

"Oh – My – GAWD!" Her eyes narrowed and she shook an admonishing finger at Judeau. "You… you… you… PEOPLE! I can't… I can't BELIEVE this! That is so… _pervy!_" Then she buried her burning face in her hands again, whimpering, "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh, what have I been DOING?!" She glanced up at Griffith and hid behind her hands again. "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh…" When she finally managed to collect herself, she took a deep breath and turned to Griffith – without looking up.

"I'm so, so sorry, Sir Griffith. I didn't mean… that." She pointed over her shoulder at Judeau, who was rubbing his face with his hands and seemed not to have the slightest inclination to look up again. Ever. "What he said. I was just trying to be nice, really. I'm really, really sorry."

Griffith was still fighting off his laughter, so it was not hard to smile at the remorseful woman.

"It is quite alright, Lady Sylvia. I didn't think that of you, anyway."

She deepened a little in colour. "Thank you," she mumbled. "Thank you very much." Then she buried her face in her hands again and whined to herself. "I did it to Corkuuuss! Oh GOD… and to Jud…" She abruptly turned back to the scout, who was still hiding behind his hands. "I did that to you all the time while we were cooking! Why didn't you say something!"

Judeau finally looked up again, and his face had not lost any colour. "I tried, Lady Sylvia! You never gave me a chance to speak!"

"Then you should have tried harder!"

"I did try, Lady Sylvia! You wouldn't listen!"

"You should have made me listen!"

Judeau just groaned and buried his face in his hands again.

* * *

After dinner, Sylvia packed a basket of leftovers – and there were plenty of leftovers, even though almost every single soldier had eaten more than his fill – and wove her way in between the tents, muttering an embarrassed mantra to herself:

"…I am very sorry… didn't mean to… please don't hate me…"

When she reached the tent she had been looking for, she stopped and took a deep breath to try to calm her racing heart. Then she tentatively leaned forward a little.

"Mr. Corkus…?"

Corkus heart jumped when he heard the sweet, hesitant voice right outside his tent, and suddenly his thoughts were very far from the paperwork (a few requisitions and reports) that he'd been trying to get done. His first impulse was to try to smooth down his hair and the front of his shirt, but then he remembered and let his hands drop again. He leaned back and sighed heavily, trying to make his voice sound as forbidding and annoyed as possible:

"What?"

"Um… It's me… Sylvia…" She cleared her throat. "Remember me?"

Corkus closed his eyes. As if he could forget. "I'm busy."

"Er, well… I… you left dinner before you'd… you know… had a chance to eat properly… er… so I… thought I'd bring you… a few leftovers. Hrm. Can… can I come in?"

Corkus gathered himself and was just about ready to send her off, when his stomach gave him a loud reminder of how little he had eaten that evening. And that food had looked so incredibly good, just the memory of it made his mouth water…

"Like I said, I'm busy. Just leave the food and go."

"O-okay…" He didn't turn around as he heard the soft rustle of the tent flap and she entered his tent. She hesitantly walked up to him, and he desperately tried to focus on the paper before him.

…Must re- requ- requess…

She stopped right behind him and her scent swept in over him, along with the enticing smell of food. God… damn!

He scowled at the report and tried not to breathe through his nose, whispering quietly to himself in an attempt to better focus on the words.

"Re- request… ten… nee- nev- new… new sv- sworr- swords…"

"I'll… I'll just put this here, then," Sylvia mumbled quietly, leaning in past him to place the alluring basket on the table next to him. It smelled heavenly. She smelled better – and one of her silky, red locks fell down and brushed against his arm, sending strange but not unpleasant shivers down his spine.

God… _damn!_

It took all his self control to grunt:

"Yeah, that's okay," as if he couldn't care less. Sylvia pulled back again, but didn't leave.

"…And… trrr- tree- three… nee- new… hooor- horrrss…" Sylvia was fidgeting. Corkus let his frustration out – slammed his fist into the table and growled, still not looking at her:

"Is there anything _else_ you want?"

She made a small sound of fear and took one step back, but still didn't leave. "We- well, I- I… I wanted to… I just… I didn't…" She took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry about what I did at dinner – It's just that I come from a place with a bit of a different culture… and I didn't know that you were joking when you asked me to sit on your lap and… and…" She cleared her throat again and continued in a quieter voice, "I didn't know… what it actually meant when… er… I did the… the finger thing. I'm so sorry if I embarrassed you, or insulted you or something…"

Corkus buried his face in his palms and rubbed it. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, it turned out that she was all innocent and sweet, too – He caught another whiff from the food-basket – _And_ she could cook!

…And she was interested in him. Maybe… maybe it would actually be worth risking the gallows… Maybe…

No! No, nothing was worth risking the gallows for. Not even this – and besides, had she not been crazy, she would _never_ have gone for a guy like him… she could have anyone… and she would probably realise that soon enough, anyway.

Of course she would have to be crazy. A crazy noblewoman. _Just his damned luck!_

Sylvia's voice had dropped even further, and was now hardly more than a whisper:

"So… I hope you don't… hate me or anything. Hrm. I just wanted to apologise."

"Whatever." He took a deep breath and set his face in a stern scowl, finally turning around to face her. This was going to be so damn hard. Possibly the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"Listen," he said, making sure his voice didn't shift from annoyance and harshness, "I don't hate you. In fact, I couldn't care less about you. You cling to me like you think you're something, and you're not. You're nothing but annoying, and in the way – get it?" He leaned closer to her, trying to imagine that he was riding into battle – just plunge in and be as vicious as you can, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be alive at the end of the day.

"Get out of my tent," he hissed, "I have important work to do. Stop bothering me."

Sylvia looked absolutely stunned for a moment, and didn't even breathe. He couldn't look at her, at the hurt in those big, beautiful eyes, so he turned back to his stupid paperwork with a disdainful snort. He heard her pull one shallow, shaky breath before she spoke – with a very cold voice, completely devoid of all cheerfulness:

"I see, Mr. Corkus. I'm so sorry to have bothered you." And with a soft rustle of fabric, she was gone. 

Corkus sat perfectly still for a moment that seemed like half an eternity, staring stupidly down at the report without really seeing it. He hadn't ever felt this disgusted with himself, before.

With careful deliberation, he lifted his head higher and brought it down against the table with a heavy thud.

Why me? Why does this shit always happen to me? Why can't I ever get a break?

He turned his head and studied the food-basket. Funnily enough, he didn't feel so hungry anymore – but he still sat up and removed the red-and-yellow kerchief that had been draped over it and took a look inside. Mostly to have something else to think about.

There was a small skin of wine, a couple of chicken legs, potatoes, vegetables, grapes, a small flask of sauce, a piece of some weird-but-tasty-looking pastry, and what appeared to be a fist-sized, golden ball. When he picked that last item up to study it more closely, he noticed a small, yellowish piece of paper at the bottom.

Setting the ball aside, he picked the paper up with a strange sense of trepidation and begun to decipher the red scribbles on it.

"To… Corkus… tee- thee- the moss- most hann- handsomm- handsome… man… I've… ever… seen." 

He definitely didn't have any appetite left. He put the note back in the basket and put the kerchief on top of it.

…damn.

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Ladybug: WAAAAAAAHHH!!! *Spouting tears like a manga-fountain* LADYBUG DOESN'T LIKE THIIIIIS!!  
Wakko: *Cradling Ladybug against her ample chest* There, there… *turns a reproachful glare on Pearlyblue* Now look what you've done!  
Pearlyblue: *Flustered* But we need this! It brings the story forward! Every Mary-Sue has some angst in it!  
Ladybug: No we don't need 'angst'! *Weeps* Why can't everyone just be happy and sparkly and hug each other all day forever and always?!  
Pearlyblue: Because then there wouldn't be a story, Ladybug, try to understand…  
Ladybug: No! Ladybug doesn't want to understand! 'Angst' is evil! Waaaaaahh!!  
Wakko: *Hugs Ladybug closer* Let the poor little girl be, Pearl. Don't be so evil.  
Pearlyblue: *Growls* Will you stop that? You know we need this! You're just taking the chance to cop a feel or five! Stop undermining me, and stop thinking with your libido!  
Wakko: *Grins* There's another way to think?  
Pearlyblue: *Glowers*  
Wakko: Okay, okay, fine. Listen, Ladybug, the next chapter will be better, okay? Nicer and sparklier and everything, okay?  
Ladybug: *Looks up with huge, watery, trembling manga eyes, lower lip trembling too* …Promise?  
Wakko and Pearlyblue: Yes, we promise.  
Ladybug: *Dries tears* Okay… *Perks up* Then let's do the reviewerer responses! Can Ladybug start? Please? Pleasepleaseplease??  
Wakko and Pearlyblue: Ehhh… okaayy…  
Ladybug: Yay! Okay, gundamgirl66… um… But what if Sylvia likes Corkus? She's just Judeau's friend… and Judeau… loves Caska… right? Pearl? Wakko?  
Wakko: Yes, he wants to hum… he likes Caska, yes. At least that's what it looked like in the anime… *Shrugs* we could be wrong. *Picks the next reviewer* Okay, my turn! Ah, Thunder Mistress. *reads* "…keep telling yourself that…" *Looks up at audience* Shut up. And Judeau… in a… *Makes a weird facial expression* …bra? Only a bra? Ew… his boobs are way too small for that… ew, not sexy at all…  
Pearlyblue: *Green eyes begin to glow, Pale blue hair stands on end, claws begin to extend* **Is she mocking the freckled one?**  
Wakko and Ladybug: Uh-ohh…  
Demon Pearlyblue: **Nobody mocks the freckled one!**  
Wakko: FANGIRL INTERVENTION! *Body-slams Demon Pearlyblue to the ground, pinning her* A little help here! Ladybug! Get the demon restraining chains!  
Ladybug: Okay. *Pulls demon-chains from her bag* Here.  
Wakko: How did you…? Ah, nevermind. *Restrains Demon Pearlyblue* You need to calm down, okay? She was just joking, god d*mn it… *pauses* Why can I still not say d*mn?! For f*ck's sake, Corkus just said it, up there! Look!  
Ladybug: *Hugglesnuggles Demon Pearlyblue* S'Okay, Pearl. Nobody's mocking anyone. *Starts singing lullaby*  
Wakko: *Sighs* Fer fog's sake, Pearl, you're an embarrassment to fangirls everywhere. Get a hold of yourself.  
Pearlyblue:*Powers down, glowers* But she was…  
Ladybug: No, it's okay… here, have a reviewsie. It'll cheer you up! Have all the rest!  
Wakko: Heeeey…  
Pearlyblue: *Takes deep breath* Okay. All right. *Clears throat* magical-flyingdragon… cool pen name. *smiles* Thank you for your review, and for enjoying the story. We hope you keep reading! – Oh, Vitellio! Nice to see a good, long review from you! Funny idea, with Sylvia showing up in the Berserk future… we might be able to work with that… *grins* – Finally, Niclas. We're… er… glad that you feel we can pull this off without carbonating… Or something… *smiles at the audience for a while, then turns to Ladybug and Wakko* Can you take these chains off of me now? I'm calm…  
Wakko: Sure. Key, Ladybug?  
Ladybug: *Blinks and blushes* Errrrr… hehe… um… Ladybug kinda lent the key to Pikachu.  
Wakko: WHAT?  
Pearlyblue: YOU DID WHAT?  
Ladybug: *Edges away* Er… he liked how it sparkled after Ladybug had fixed it up…  
Wakko: But it was MINE! Get it BACK!  
Ladybug: Eep! *Runs away*  
Wakko: ..... *Turns to Pearlyblue* *Grins* Y'know, since you're tied up and everything… and we're all alone…  
*Zoom out, beyond atmosphere, solar system and galaxy*  
Pearlyblue: Noooooooooooooooo!!!  



	7. Sylvia in action

Pearlyblue: We apologise that it took so long to get this chapter to you, but there's a perfectly good explanation for that.  
Wakko: Yes – this chapter is the longest ever.  
Pearlyblue: Yeah. We wanted some action in this chapter, so we decided to merge what was originally planned to be two chapters.  
Wakko: *Devilish grin* We merged two… to get more action… and we all like it when it lasts for a while, right?  
Ladybug: *Completely clueless* Yup! And it almost got EVEN longer!  
Wakko: *Dreamy sigh*  
Pearlyblue: *Sweatdrops* Riight… well, this is all you're gonna get for this time – but it's a LOT, so don't be disappointed. Or we'll give Ladybug a load of sugar and point her in your direction.  
Ladybug: OOOOH!! Ladybug LIKES sugar!! Sugar now?  
Pearlyblue and Wakko: NO. At least not yet… remember what happened last time?  
Ladybug: Ummm… *Very fake innocence* Noo…  
Wakko: The poor woman almost drowned in the sparkles…  
Pearlyblue: *Shudders* Yes… horrible…  
Ladybug: *Pouts* …But Ladybug WANTS sugar… *Sulks*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  


Chapter seven: Sylvia in action.

Judeau kicked off his boots and sat down on his bed, feeling heavier than usual from all the good food, and the fatigue of keeping up with Sylvia. He pondered just toppling over and falling asleep fully dressed – it had been such a long, weird day, and he was so tired…

"Judeau?"

"Hnn?" He looked up just in time to see Sylvia dash in through the opening of his tent. She stopped, hesitating, and he saw the glimmer of tears on her alabaster cheeks in the light from his single candle. His heart skipped a beat. "Wha- What?"

Sylvia gave a long, trembling sob and fell forwards, into his arms. Before he knew it, she had wrapped both hands around his shoulders and was weeping uncontrollably against his chest. Judeau's heartbeats sped up alarmingly, but he put both arms around her and stroked her back comfortingly.

"What's wrong, Sylvia? What's happened?" He tried taking a deep breath to compose himself, and continued in a much softer voice: "Come on, Sylvia, tell me. What's wrong?"

She hiccuped and sobbed, but finally managed to speak:

"Co- Corkus… I… he… I don't understand…"

Corkus, Judeau thought. Go figure. I had a feeling there would be trouble about that.

"What did he do to you?" he asked darkly. Sylvia looked up into his face and shook her head slightly.

"No, no…" she whispered weakly, two more sparkling tears spilling from her beautiful, odd-coloured eyes. "He didn't… it was me. My own fault."

Judeau tore his attention away from her soft, rosy lips (what was this strange effect Sylvia was having on him? He knew enough to be sure that it wasn't love – but it seemed like something more than just sexual attraction, too…) and focused on her words with a worried frown.

"Your fault…? Sylvia, what… what did you do, then?"

She whimpered and buried her face against his chest again. Judeau found himself slipping away once more, unwelcome thoughts of pressing his lips against Sylvia's, or of kissing away her tears, began flashing through his head.

What _is_ this…? 

Then, clear as the sun itself, an image of Caska appeared before his eyes. Standing proud, smiling that rare little smile that made her dark eyes glow with inner warmth, the wind lightly ruffling her short hair and the sun lending her brown skin a beautiful copper glow…

…And suddenly, his head was perfectly clear again. His friend Sylvia needed his help – or at least his shoulder – and that was all.

He pulled her closer until she was sitting more comfortably in his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder. Calmingly rubbing her back, he smiled encouragingly.

"It's okay, Sylvia. Take your time. When you're ready, tell me what happened, and maybe there'll be something I can do to help. Okay?"

She nodded, still sobbing, and sat up a little straighter. Wiping the tears away with one small hand, she quietly began to speak:

"I just wanted to get to know him a little better, so I brought him some food… 'Cause, you know, he hadn't eaten much… but he was very busy… and… and I… I pestered him. He- he got angry and told me to go… and that he wasn't interested in me at all…" She gave him a very worried look. "Judeau, am I really that horrible?"

Judeau just stared at her in confusion. "Hold on," he said, "Let me get this straight… you went to his tent, with food – _your_ food – and the intention to… hang out with him?"

"Yeah…" she sniffled, "I wanted to get to know him better, to talk to him a little…"

"And he… he actually said that he was busy? With _what?_"

"Well, he was reading some very important-looking papers."

"He was busy with _paperwork?_ Corkus?"

Sylvia frowned at him. "Yeah."

"Our Corkus? Corkus of the Band of the Hawk?"

"How… many others are there…?"

"And he told you that he wasn't interested in you?"

Tears began pooling in Sylvia's eyes again. "M-hm," she whimpered in a small voice. Judeau still couldn't quite fit his mind around this.

"Corkus?"

Sylvia finally frowned at him and scooted off of his lap and onto the bed, sitting next to him, instead.

"Yes! Why do you keep asking that? It was the same man you pointed out for me at dinner, and called 'Corkus'! It was him!"

Judeau leaned back, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Huh. It's just that… that doesn't sound like Corkus at all…"

"Well, it was him." She resolutely crossed her arms over her chest and sobbed quietly. "And he told me I was just in the way. I mean, I know I'm not attractive or anything, but I…"

"Now hold on just a minute, Sylvia," Judeau interrupted. "Where have you gotten that stupid idea from?"

"What?"

"That you're not attractive? I mean… I can name… say… about five thousand guys who would disagree."

She sniffled again, but her sadness was slowly evaporating, being replaced by a confused curiousness instead. "Re- really? Are you just saying that to be nice or…?"

He shook his head vigorously. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. Why do you even think that I would?"

Sylvia looked away, embarrassedly studying her feet. "Well… where I come from, y'know, the demon realm, people think I'm very unattractive. I look too weak – no scales, no big muscles, no claws or fangs or wings or tentacles… not even a tail or an extra pair of eyes. Nothing." She sniffled again and mumbled, "I'm a bad catch."

"Really?" Judeau drawled. He couldn't help but grin, even if it really wasn't that funny. "Well, in this world… we humans have quite a different view on beauty, let me tell you. For one, you're considered more attractive the _less_ fangs, scales, claws… weird hairiness… tails or tentacles you've got. Soft skin is very attractive."

Sylvia was looking more and more interested, and she absently reached up to touch her own soft cheek. Judeau's grin widened.

"Two eyes are preferred, too – the perfect number. And long eyelashes goes very well with that."

"Oh, like yours?"

Judeau laughed. "Yeah, sure – or like yours. Let's see, what else… Long legs are attractive… so is a narrow waist, and wide hips… and, er… a full bosom."

Sylvia looked down on herself and nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, big breasts are attractive in my world, too… especially if you have, like, four or five… or six…"

Judeau's eyes widened at the unpleasant mental images. "Okay," he said quickly, "but I guarantee you that humans prefer two. Two eyes, two brea… two ears, two legs, two arms… and one nose, one mouth, one bellybutton. In short, humans want someone who looks like another human. Again, like you."

Sylvia tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Yeah, I've always been attracted to people who look like other humans, too… but what's a 'bellybutton'?"

Judeau frowned. "A bellybutton. You know, on the stomach…"

She shook her head slowly. Perplexed, Judeau lifted his tunic an inch and pointed.

"You know, this one."

"That's right!" Sylvia cheerfully exclaimed. "Papa had one too! Do all humans have these? They're so cute…" She reached out and poked Judeau's bellybutton before he could react, and he quickly pulled his shirt back down again, laughing.

"Heyy…"

Sylvia raised one delicate eyebrow at him and grinned suddenly. "Are you ticklish, Judeau?"

"No," he said, just a little bit too fast. "Er, anyway, don't you have one?"

She shook her head and pulled up her tunic, exposing smooth, uninterrupted skin. "Nuh-uh. Why?"

"So… how were you born, then?"

"Mother laid an egg, why?"

Judeau boggled. "Egg?"

Sylvia nodded. "Yep, mother said she absolutely refused to have any kids growing inside of her. Especially since that unfortunate incident with the parasite-demon… but let's not talk about that – it's kind of icky…"

"Yeah… let's not."

"So…" Sylvia mumbled thoughtfully after a short silence, "If I'm not unattractive, why doesn't Corkus like me?" Before Judeau could answer, she gasped and turned to him in near panic. "He's not… into other men, is he?"

"Nuh-uh. Not Corkus. I honestly can't see why he would…"

"Oh," she gasped again, "What if he's got another girlfriend! God, I bet that's it… he's too gorgeous to be single."

Judeau cringed and almost groaned. 'Corkus' and 'gorgeous' were concepts that he had some problem putting together – but hey, whatever rocked her boat…

"I doubt that… but I guess I could ask him."

"You would?!" Sylvia exclaimed exuberantly. "Oh thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"I'm not promising anything, though, but I'll see what I can find out."

Sylvia hugged him tightly and squealed, "Thaaaank youuu!" She then leaned back and gave him a radiant grin. "Now I'm more determined than ever to get you together with Caska!"

Judeau turned serious in an instant. "Sylvia, no. Don't. Don't get involved in that, okay? I'm asking you nicely, as a friend."

She frowned in obvious confusion.

"But why? I already am involved… you're my friend and I want to see you happy…"

He got his face back under control and smiled at her. "I am happy. I've got all I need."

Her eyes narrowed, unconvinced. "But… wouldn't you be happier with Caska as your girlfriend?"

Judeau sighed, looking away from her uncomprehending gaze.

"Yeah," he conceded, "Probably. But that won't happen, and…" he looked back at her with another smile. "…I'm okay with that. I've known it for a long time, and I'm okay with it."

Sylvia's eyes were wide open and sincere.

"No you're not," she stated calmly. "You want her. It's plain as day!"

He frowned in slight annoyance. "Okay… I guess I'm not being clear enough, here. See, whether I want Caska or not doesn't really matter…"

"Doesn't matter?!"

"Doesn't matter!" He made sure that his words had sunken in, before he continued: "It doesn't matter, because, as I told you earlier, she doesn't want me. She's hopelessly and helplessly in love with Griffith, and I can't ever change that, no matter how much I would want to." He sighed and rubbed his hands together, looking away from her again. "It's a fact of life: You don't always get what you want. A romance takes two to work, and she's not going to be that part."

"Ooo-kay…" Sylvia drawled thoughtfully. "So… is Griffith in love with her, then? 'Cause I must've missed that…"

"No. No, he's not. Or, he hasn't ever done anything that would make it seem that way, at least. But, you know, that doesn't change a thing for my situation."

"But," Sylvia interrupted, frowning again, "Maybe she just needs to know that she's got another option. Have you even tried to tell her?"

"Er… well… There was a time, when I just started to realise that girls were interesting, and that I was… well… in love with one… When I tried to let her know. Subtly, of course, since she was so obviously hung up on Griffith, even back then."

Sylvia raised one eyebrow. "Subtly, huh? So what did you do, then?"

He sighed again and felt a small, embarrassed smile creep onto his lips as he looked off into his memories.

"Small, silly things… the usual, you know: giving her compliments –which I still kind of do, it's just become a 'thing' between us, nowadays… and helping her out whenever she needed it. You know, just being there for her, in general. Paid attention to her… I even gave her a flower once."

"Once?" Sylvia sounded disappointed and very unimpressed. "You gave her a flower _once?_ Wooow… I can't understand why she didn't get the hint…"

He sent her an annoyed glance. "The problem was: I think she did. She gave me such a weird look, and avoided me for almost a week afterwards. That's when I really realised that it wasn't going to happen."

Sylvia's jaw dropped. "A _week?! _What, is giving someone a flower another _invitation,_ or what?"

"Er… no. It's a lot more romantic… and I'd put some thought into it, and she picked up on that." The small, embarrassed smile found its way back to his face. "It was a Lily-of-the-valley, since she'd said she loved the way they smelled. And the setting was a little bit romantic, too… by a waterfall – I'd followed her there to help her with her laundry, so it was just the two of us… So stupid."

Sylvia's voice had dropped all of its teasing and hardness:

"No, that's not stupid… that was so sweet."

His lips twitched up in a wry, lopsided smile. "Yep. Too sweet, as it turned out. When you're in a situation like that, and the girl gives you a face like she did to me… well, you sort of have to face the facts. I toned it down after that." Judeau looked up at Sylvia again, and he couldn't keep the smile. "So, you see… if I got that reaction from just giving her a simple flower… imagine if I told her the full truth – or if anybody else did. I'd lose her completely. She's too important to me… Even if I can't have her love, I'll gladly settle for her friendship, as long as it means that she'll stay in my life. Do you understand?"

Sylvia nodded thoughtfully. "You're afraid to risk her friendship. Yes, I see your point."

"I'm glad," he gave her a relieved smile. "You don't gamble with what you can't afford to lose, right?"

"Yup," Sylvia kept nodding, as if she hadn't heard him. "It's a stupid point, but I see where you're coming from. You're afraid, but don't worry…" She gave him a brilliant smile and patted him on the head. "I'll be subtle. I'll be real careful, you'll see. Or rather, you won't see, on account of me being so subtle, that is!" And she winked at him.

While Judeau was still fighting to find the right words, Sylvia got up and briskly walked out of his tent, tossing a cheerful wave over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Judeau! I'll make you happy!"

Panicking, he ran out after her. "Sylvia, wait!" And then stopped cold in his tracks, as he realised that he was suddenly the centre of attention – a group of about ten Hawks were sitting around a campfire, only one tent away from his, and they had all fallen unusually silent. Many of them wore very insinuating grins, and one raised his wineskin in a toast.

"Way to go, Judeau!"

Judeau grinned, fighting a blush. "Eh-heh-heh… heeh… It's not really what it looks like, guys…"

The one who had toasted him winked, and many of the others nodded knowingly amongst themselves.

"Of course it's not. Give us all the details later, okay?"

Judeau threw a desperate glance in the direction Sylvia had disappeared, but she was nowhere to be found. He rubbed his forehead in worried exasperation and turned back to his tent in defeat. He suspected, though, that it would be quite hard to fall asleep now.

* * *

Sylvia walked as unnoticed as a summer breeze through the silenced camp, using her demon abilities to remain unseen. For one, she didn't want Judeau to catch up with her and try to convince her to let him remain miserable, but she had a lot of other things to think about as well, so she didn't want to have to talk to anyone else either.

So, Judeau was going to talk to Corkus and try to find out what it was that she was doing wrong, there… or if he was already taken. Sylvia's eyes narrowed. If she had any chance at all, though… papa always said – and mother sure agreed – 'If you want something, go and get it. Make sure you get it.' That was the way she had been taught, and that was the way she would follow. 'Nobody wants a quitter', 'A weak will can't be compensated by a strong body, but a weak body must be compensated by a strong will'. Yes, she would deal with this.

And then there was another big problem. Her only friend – the only friend she'd ever had that was really worth the name – was hurting. He might be saying that it didn't bother him, but darn it, it bothered her! He had all his reasons and clever words, but the bottom line was that he was hurting, and afraid to get even more hurt. His fear was holding him back, just like papa had always told her to avoid. Well, she'd just have to figure out a way to fix him – starting with… talking to Caska. Yes! Judeau was going to talk to Corkus for her, so she could do the same for him – finding out what Caska thought, for real.

Without saying too much, of course. She'd have to watch it, there.

A small yawn caught her unawares. That's right, she thought dimly, I haven't slept for… how long? Not counting when I was unconscious, of course…

She stopped and stretched, overcome by another yawn. Drat, but it was exhausting to regenerate… and cook… and get your heart broken. Phoo… it had been a busy day, hadn't it?

She sighed and looked around at all the tents, her demonic ears easily picking up the sounds of the sleeping men all around.

Hey, wait… where am I supposed to sleep?

One of her ears perked up, turned, and the other soon followed suit. Somewhere, beyond the quiet murmurs and rustlings of the sleeping soldiers, there was another sound. Stealthy, consciously hushed… a muffled clinking of metal… leaves and grass rustling under heavy, slow-moving feet…

What is that? It sounds like a lot of people… soldiers… sneaking up. Why would anyone be snea-oooh my GAWD!

"Ambush!" she screamed jubilantly at the top of her lungs, hearing men awaken with a yelp all around the camp. She didn't wait for them but started running in the direction the ambushers were coming from. "Ambush! Ambush! This way! This way!"

Other voices were taking up her call, beginning to rally the drowsy Hawks. She ran by a campfire and waved at the men to follow her, which – to her surprise – they did, swords already drawn and at the ready.

She couldn't help but grin giddily. "Ambush! Follow meee!" This was so exciting! Her first REAL battle!

The ambushers finally realised that their cover was blown, and raised war cries of their own as they stormed in, meeting Sylvia and her hastily assembled crew head on.

* * *

Corkus wasn't really sure why he had rushed off after Sylvia like that; it was almost as though her shouted command had gone directly to his feet without passing through his brain – A stronger instinctive reaction than even Griffith could command.

In fact, he had hardly even _heard_ her command in the first place. He'd just been sitting there, minding his wineskin and himself and trying to avoid intrusive questions, and she had swept by like a red-and-gold flurry – and suddenly he found himself on his feet, sword drawn and adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins.

What the hell?

He tried to will his legs to slow down for a brief moment, but then the sound of war cries startled him back into full action. Sylvia's words immediately popped up clear and distinct in his head. Ambush… right.

Well, damn.

A quick look around made his heart and head feel cold with near panic. Sylvia had attracted a few more guys than those around his campfire, but they were still outnumbered – and completely without armour. Their attackers, who were just coming into view, looked vastly better prepared. The outlook was very grim. Corkus hand tightened around the hilt of his sword and he forced himself to focus, to forget the ice-cold fear that was coursing through his body.

He had to fight, even if the outcome was clear. Turning tail at this point would only result in being hunted down and stabbed in the back – meeting the enemy head-on at least gave him a chance to see the blow coming.

And also, there was no way that he could leave Sylvia to die. The bitch was absolutely crazy, and there was no way that she knew what kind of danger she was putting herself in. She even seemed enthusiastic!

Corkus resolve tightened firmly and he sped up, trying to catch up with her before it was too late – but she was too fast.

Two other guys were fast enough, though, and threw themselves in front of her, desperately blocking the first enemy blows. Corkus heard Sylvia scream in frustration:

"Move, please!"

…And then the men staggered aside with surprise, as if forcefully shoved. For one, heart-stopping instant, Corkus saw the enemy horde descend on her. One man, who looked like he'd gotten his face smacked repeatedly with a very heavy frying pan, scarred and grimy, and built like a fucking bear, leered and reached out for her with his free hand. Corkus heard himself scream in rage.

Then, suddenly, everything took a most unexpected turn.

The huge, ugly ambusher was hoisted up into the air, and came crashing down on top of a big group of his own men. Corkus caught a glimpse of crimson and heard the screams of seriously wounded men, and knew that _someone_ must have been impaled on some sharp point, over there. He looked over at Sylvia again in stunned disbelief.

Sylvia was tossing people around like rag dolls, reaching out, pulling them to herself, smacking her forehead into theirs and tossing their dazed, lifeless bodies into their own line. _They _were wearing helmets, _she_ was not, and yet… she wasn't even fazed.

The helmets were fucking _dented!_ What… the…?

Then a sharp stab of pain shot through his side and he instinctively jumped to the side, turning to face his opponent. Some of the intruders had apparently decided to go around the ring of destruction that was Sylvia, and were coming up on the Hawks from the side. Corkus felt warm blood trickle down his arm, but the pain had faded and was already gone – drowned in adrenaline. His attacker howled in triumph and stabbed again, Corkus parried and met the attack.

* * *

Sylvia whirled through the ambushers, using every trick her father ever taught her. A swift kick at a soft spot here, a grab-twist-pull there, bite, scratch, eye-poke. The human armours yielded like paper even under her low-powered blows, and the guys she had thrown or headbutted remained down. Her demonic blood rumbled in her ears, drowning out any irrelevant sounds, and coursed through her body like liquid fire.

So, this was the rush she had missed out on. She could suddenly understand those demons who became obsessed with this feeling, and why her papa had tried so hard to keep her away from it. The dance of battle could be so very alluring – intoxicating, even – to the wrong half-blood.

Not to her, though. She could hear the song that her blood was whispering, but did not feel it in her heart – could not and would not bend to its wishes. A rush of pure joy, every bit as strong as the battle-rush, poured through her. She was strong! Her mind was strong enough – Strong enough to compensate her weak body!

She laughed out loud, never missing a step or a blow. Papa was going to be so proud! Mother would finally have to acknowledge her strength! Giddy with happiness, she picked up the nearest enemy soldier and pressed a big, wet kiss on his mouth before sending him crashing into his comrades.

There weren't as many enemy soldiers left standing around her, anymore. She spun around, scanning the nearest area with battle-enhanced reflexes.

Where are the biggest and the meanest at…?

She absently brought the back of her fist up, knocking the ambusher who'd rushed up behind her out cold, and then spotted the place where she wanted to go.

As she came up on the fighting horde, she noticed two things: One, the Hawks had been reinforced by better armed and armoured men, Griffith leading them from the front, and two: The huge man who turned around to meet her with menace in his eyes, was the same guy she'd tossed aside at the beginning of the fight. She grinned and stopped for an instant, placing her hands on her ample hips.

"Hiya!" she said cheerfully, "Remember me? I threw you aside, back there…" She tossed her head so that her locks would stay behind her back, and gave the man a wink. "I hope you do better this time! What was the deal with not using your weapon? That was kind of stupid, don't you think?"

He turned several shades more red but didn't bother to reply, instead he lunged at her with his weapon raised in both hands. Sylvia thought she heard a deep, kind of commanding voice cry out her name, but didn't have the time to look around for its source.

* * * 

Griffith almost froze for a terrifying instant when he saw Sylvia's radiant figure on the battlefield. She was standing perfectly still, as if completely unaware of the mayhem all around, and it even looked as though she was smiling at the huge brute who was rushing towards her. He cried out her name and spurred his horse on, but the enemy was too thick around him and he wasn't getting anywhere.

As he looked up in desperation, he saw Sylvia and the brute move as if in slow motion. The big man brought his sword down on her with frightening speed and deadly force, but when the blow was supposed to have impacted, Sylvia was no longer there. Somehow, she had gotten in behind him – but she didn't use this opportunity to run for her life, instead she reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder!

The big brute turned around, howling with rage and sweeping his sword around in a mighty arc. This time, Sylvia didn't dodge. Still smiling, she reached out and caught the blade in her open palm. Griffith fully expected to see her fingers fly away in a spray of blood, but instead… the sword stopped in mid-arc.

The brute looked as surprised as Griffith felt, and was clearly putting all his strength behind the blade, but Sylvia's smile merely widened. Then her small, delicate fingers tightened around the sword and bent it with a horrible whine from the tortured metal. The big man merely had time to gasp and begin to back away before Sylvia had tossed his now-useless sword aside and taken one swift step closer to him. Her lips moved as if she whispered something to him, and then her hand shot out with the speed and deadly precision of a cobra, closed around his codpiece, and hoisted him high into the air.

Griffith found himself almost sympathy-cringing. Before the heavy body had hit the ground, though, Sylvia had sped off in another direction and out of Griffith's sight.

So… he thought between parries, blows and commands …is she really a half-demon, then? Or was that some kind of… hallucination?

No. She has to be. It's the only explanation, however strange it may seem.

Huh. Most interesting. Most interesting indeed.

* * *

"Not very impressive," she whispered into the big man's scarred, stunned face, before she grabbed him hard by the balls and threw him away, much more forcefully than last time.

She didn't bother to check where he landed – she was quite confident that he wouldn't get back up, this time – and glanced around for the next good target.

The tiny little hairs at the back of her neck suddenly rose, and a small, cold shiver rippled down her back. She turned her head the way that her instincts pulled it, and her heart almost stopped. In one of the few places left where the ambushers still outnumbered the Hawks, Corkus was fighting for his life. He was bleeding from a nasty cut on the arm and several other small wounds, and she could tell that he was beginning to have some difficulty holding on to his blood-slick sword.

Without even thinking about it she dashed off at top demon speed, to save her man.

* * *

It was over. Practically over already. The fight he was putting up was more pure, stubborn bitchiness than anything else. He knew it was only a matter of time before this asshole got the best of him, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to leave his mark on him, first.

The blood loss was getting to him, too. He had to concentrate on every little move, because the world was beginning to swim at the edges, making him unsteady. He desperately blinked a drop of his own blood out of his eyes and made a quick jab forward.

His blade actually managed to sneak in between the chest- and the armplate of the man he was fighting, and Corkus felt it penetrate soft flesh.

Yes! Got him!

But his brief triumph made him sloppy, and in the next moment his sword was flung from his hands. Corkus looked into his attacker's eyes and saw no mercy. Only fair, he supposed, watching the axe swoop down on him. He wouldn't have given any, had their places been reversed.

His eyes stung with tears of frustration that would never get the chance to fall.

Fuck. I didn't want to die like this. Not like this.

A small, bright object entered his field of vision, and the moment of the axe's impact against his head dragged out far longer than it should have. He blinked again, and the image cleared: A delicate, decidedly female hand was holding the axe at bay. He didn't have the time to frown in dazed confusion before another small hand shot into view and slammed into the axe-wielder's face. The man toppled over without so much as a grunt, and Corkus found himself swiftly hoisted up into the air – and then down to hang over someone's rather small shoulders.

A scent of flowers somehow managed to penetrate the overwhelming stench of blood and battle, and he caught a glimpse of something golden-red…

…Sylvia?

His befuddled mind tried to make some sense out of this situation. It couldn't be Sylvia. Not here, not like this, carrying him and effectively kicking ass all round – at the same time. Corkus blinked and frowned, absently watching soldier bodies fly away from whomever it was that was holding him. So… did I die? Or… fall asleep or something…?

His frown deepened. No, he was in too much pain to be unconscious in any way. Ah, maybe he was hallucinating. Yes, the blood loss had finally got to his mind. That had to be it.

He closed his eyes and focused on relaxing and trying to make the world stop spinning in every direction at once. After a moment, it seemed like he was succeeding – his stomach lurched, as if the person holding him had made a great jump, and then the world finally stopped. It felt as though small, female hands were slowly helping him back onto solid ground. He opened his eyes and focused – with some effort – on Sylvia's beautiful face.

What??

She smiled, a small, worried little smile, and he felt one of her soft, delicate hands hesitantly touch his face.

"You're safe now, Mr. Corkus. Let me heal you…"

Corkus blinked at her, putting all his effort into making his voice heard:

"You… What…? I mean… what was that? Did you… Did you just save me? How...?"

Sylvia gasped and blushed abruptly. "Oh… eh… ah…" she glanced back over her shoulder, and Corkus followed her gaze to see a large squadron of Hawks, all staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Sylvia – and beyond them, the retreating ambushers. Sylvia turned back to him again and fidgeted nervously.

"I… er… I'm sort of… a half-demon, actually." She looked up at him through her bangs and bit her own lower lip with perfect, pearly white teeth. "My mother is a demon Queen in a place very, very far from here. I'm sorry I lied… but Ju… er… I thought you wouldn't believe me."

Corkus mind was trying to tell him something, but it was a terrible mess right now, and Sylvia's beauty – cuteness – sexiness – was very distracting. He blinked again and frowned.

"So you're… not crazy?"

Sylvia twiddled her fingers. "Er… no. Not even demon-like crazy – I can handle the sight and smell of blood and everything…" she trailed off and cleared her throat, shyly looking away. "I mean… er… no, I'm not." Then she took a deep breath and reached out for him, placing one of her dainty hands on his wounded arm. "But please let me heal you now, I can explain more later."

Corkus found a heady grin wringing its way onto his face. She's not crazy… she's not crazy…! She likes me and she's not crazy…!

"I mean…" he tried to form words out of the jumbled mess that was his mind, "That was… back there, you… You were so fucking…" And something abruptly clicked inside his head – a voice of warning forced its way through his confusion, complete with big, tolling warning bells:

Shut up! Shut up, right this instant! Did you hear what she just said? She is _still_ a noble – her mother is a fucking _Queen!_ AND… a _demon!_ Which means that you won't get hanged – only _eaten alive!_ Back off, back off right now, back off!

Corkus changed gears in mid-sentence: "…So fucking unfeminine!" he made a face and tried to pull himself away from Sylvia's hands. "Oh god! Get your fucking hands off of me, you scary bitch!"

Sylvia's face fell, but she kept reaching for him. "No… Mr Corkus, please… you need to be healed!"

He scrambled to his feet and backed several steps away. "Don't touch me! You're disgusting and fucking creepy! I'm going to a real, _human_ doctor, thank you very much!"

He spun around, almost lost his footing, but kept staggering away towards the field-surgeons' tents – stubbornly refusing to look back.

* * *

"It's okay… its not that bad…"

"Shut up." Caska sent Judeau a stern glance and yanked his arm even further around her neck. "If it's not that serious, then why are you hanging so heavily on me?"

He gave her an innocent smile, which was only slightly marred by a grimace of pain. "Um… 'Cause I like having my arm around a beautiful woman?"

She gave him a half amused, half weary look. "Yeah, okay. It can't be all that bad if you're still able to crack jokes. You're still limping badly, though, so I'm not going to let go."

"Who's joking?" he chuckled, then choked on a moan of pain. "Ow, damnit, I'm not gonna be able to sit down for _weeks…_"

"What's going on over there?"

Judeau looked up and over at where Caska had turned her attention, and saw Corkus very unsteadily stagger away towards the surgeons' tent – the direction that he and Caska were heading – and noticed a bunch of Hawks who were all staring after him. No… most of the guys weren't staring after Corkus, Judeau noticed at closer inspection, but at the figure half-sitting on the ground a little ways away. A certain, slumped, golden-red haired figure.

"Sylvia…" he gasped. Caska glanced over at him in annoyance, but he gave her a pleading look back and pointed in the direction of the fair-skinned woman. "Come on, Caska, we have to see if she's okay…"

Caska made a faint huffing sound and jerked unnecessarily hard on his arm as she turned. Judeau grunted, but mostly out of surprise – he'd forgotten how much Caska disliked Sylvia.

As they walked over to the crestfallen woman, he heard Caska mutter under her breath:

"Shouldn't she have been hiding under a table somewhere… I bet she's just fainted at the sight of the blood… Can't even believe she's this close to where the action was…"

Judeau decided to pretend that he hadn't heard any of that, and instead reached out for Sylvia as they came up on her.

"Hey… Sylvia, are you okay?"

Sylvia pulled in a quick and ragged breath, sniffling and wiping her face frantically before turning around to face them.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled radiantly at him with red, puffy eyes and traces of tears still on her face - The result of which was absolutely heartbreaking. Judeau slipped down off of Caska's shoulder, carefully compensating for his injured… leg, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

"No, you're not. Was it… Corkus?"

Sylvia pulled in another sharp, ragged breath and her face screwed up as she fell into his arms, beginning to weep. Caska made a short, angry huff behind his back and abruptly turned away.

"I guess you won't be needing _me_ anymore," she snorted and stomped off. Judeau felt torn for just an instant, but Sylvia really needed him right now.

I'll apologise later… or something, he thought to himself with a small sigh.

Sylvia looked up, sobbing, and frowned at the departing woman. Then she looked up at Judeau with worried confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?"

He shook his head and gave her a strained smile. "No, don't worry about it. So, what happened this time?"

She began drying the tears away again, sniffing silently. Then she suddenly frowned and sniffed more intently at the air, leaning closer to Judeau. He leaned away a little in confusion, and Sylvia grabbed him firmly by the arms. She sternly looked up into his face.

"I can smell your blood. Are you hurt?"

"Er… yeah… but it's nothing serious."

Sylvia frowned deeper and leaned even closer to him, sniffing all the while. "You're lying!" She gave him a brief, admonishing glance and begun sniffing her way down his side. "You should never lie about woun… Whoa! Your butt is soaked in blood!"

Startled, Judeau tried to look behind himself, writhing slightly in Sylvia's hard grip.

"Is it?! Damn, I didn't think it was that bad… Will you help me get to the surgeons?"

"No, no…" Sylvia released him and decisively clapped her hands together. "It'll go a lot faster if I just do it right here."

Judeau fell back against the ground, landing on his uninjured side. He looked up at her with some alarm. "Do what?"

"Heal you, silly. Now turn over properly, and take off your pants."

Judeau tried to scoot backwards. "Sylvia, no…! That's _really_ not appropriate!"

Sylvia scowled at him and grabbed onto his pant legs, beginning to tug. "Ohhh, don't be so difficult, Judeau! I'm going to _heal_ you, and to do that I'm going to have to touch your flesh! It won't work through the clothes!"

Judeau heard a faint whoop from the guys standing further back. Panicking slightly, he tried to hold onto his pants and crawl away at the same time. "Sylvia! Please!"

She pulled him back, almost into her own lap, and begun tugging at his belt. "Stop squirming and take it like a man!"

Desperately trying to pry away her hands, Judeau reached for some kind of compromise.

"Can we at least do this in a tent?!"

Sylvia stopped and gave him a small, frustrated sigh. "Fine. I don't see what you're being shy about, though. It's just a silly little healing."

She swiftly stood and swept him up into her arms. Turning around to face the bystanding Hawks, she pointed at the nearest tent. "Can I borrow this one?"

Looking stunned and not so little disappointed, some of them just nodded in silence. Sylvia gave them a bright smile.

"Thank you! Oh, and if anyone else is injured, I'll gladly take care of you too. Just wait outside, okay?"

As she swirled around and trotted over to the tent, Judeau saw the guys eagerly scramble into a line. 

Well, at least they weren't pointing and laughing.

  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Wakko: *Purrs*…Was that as good for you as it was for me?  
Pearlyblue: *Glares* Don't.  
Ladybug: Ladybug's not sure… what does Wakko mean with "Good for"…?  
Pearlyblue: Ignore that.  
Wakko: *Sticks tongue out at Pearlyblue* Spoilsport.  
Pearlyblue: Whatever. Let's just get to the Reviewer Responses.  
Ladybug: YAAAAY!!  
Pearlyblue: *Sweatdrops* *Turns to Wakko* She didn't get to the sugar, did she…?  
Wakko: I f*cking well hope not… *Sags* Oh d*mn… WHY CAN I STILL NOT SWEAR?!  
Pearlyblue: *Clears throat loudly* Anyway… gundamgirl66 *Looks up* Yes, dear: That's the point. This is a parody – it's just for fun.  
Ladybug: OOH! Vitellio! He is so sparkly! But Ladybug don't always understand what he's talking about… Ladybug didn't see so much angst in the anime. But quite often, Wakko and Pearlyblue covered Ladybug's ears and eyes… but they told Ladybug that she didn't miss much. *Beams* Ladybug liked the bathing scene, though. Griffith was funny. *Gives Pearlyblue a confused look* What do you mean when you talk about Guts' future…? Is there another story? Didn't it end in a big, sparkly hug?  
Pearlyblue and Wakko: *Looks innocent* Er… well… um… *Looks at each other for help*  
Wakko: Um… yah, sure it did. Um. The rest of the story is about… um… Guts and Caska's… family. Yes! Family!  
Ladybug: But why haven't Ladybug gotten to see that?  
Wakko: *Pokes Pearlyblue* Your turn.  
Pearlyblue: Ummmmm… Beeecaaauuuse it's for adults only. Yeah, and a little bit icky. Yeah.  
Ladybug: *Wilts* Ohh… And Ladybug will never be an adult.  
Wakko and Pearlyblue: *Exhales and secretly low-fives each other* Yes, exactly.  
Wakko: Thunder Mistress. Our very faithful reviewer! *Lowers voice and whispers* You know, it's not Ladybug who's got the insane crush on Judeau… If you're agreeing with that frea… er… the one who thinks "the Freckled One rules all", then it's Pearl you're talking about. Personally, I can't see how she can keep to only one guy…  
Pearlyblue: *Elbows Wakko in the side and glares* Shut up, you. *Clears throat* Niclas, as always, it's a pleasure to see you. Now… you do know there's a story tucked in between the interludes with us three? We appreciate that you find us so amusing, though – don't think otherwise. *Beams*  
Ladybug: Hee hee, Pearl is sparkly… *Looks at next review and gasps* Oh! magical-flyingdragon! This one's mine, mine, mine! *Clears throat, trying to sound just like Pearlyblue* *Beams and waves* Hiiyyaa!!! You guessed it would be Corky? Cool… you're smarter than Ladybug! *Thinks again* …But… no, Ladybug did know that before…  
Wakko: Yeah. We kind of decided that together, remember…?  
Ladybug: Oh, yeaaaah…  
Wakko: *Reads review. Reads again. Hands it over to Pearlyblue* Oh my god, they're multiplying. And not even in a fun way.  
Pearlyblue: *Blushes and waves* Hi, Elin1. Ignore Wakko, she just can't see the point of liking only one guy. Or gal, for that matter… Here's a deal, we'll keep writing this if you keep writing your Judeau-epic. Okay?  
Ladybug: We'd stop writing if she stops?  
Wakko: Like f*ck we are… Aw, man.  
Pearlyblue: *Makes quick, shushing gestures* …Shutupshutupshutupshutupshhhhh… *Hands Wakko the next review* You do the next now, okay? Now?  
Wakko: *Still bummed about the swearing* Whatever. *Reads review* Um… this one's two… well, either that or schizo…   
Pearlyblue: Don't speak that way about our kind and lovely reviewers!  
Wakko: *Grins at audience* But they're positive, so we like them. The more the merrier, as I always say. Hee hee... *Winks*  
Ladybug: Merit Somnia – does that mean tired or something? *Beams* Anyway, thank you for liking how we write Corkus… and the rest of the stuff.  
Pearlyblue: *Steps in* Yes… we would actually like to ask you, and anyone else who's read this far down the page, what you would most like to see. Are you rooting for Corkus, or against him? We're actually incredibly curious about what you people think of this.  
Wakko: We're not actually gonna change the story or anything, though, since we've already thought it all out – but it's fun to know where our readers stand. Please tell us in your next review.  
Ladybug: Ladybug wants to know too! Ladybug would per-so-nal-ly like to see Sylvia with Corkus. *Thinks* But Ladybug would like it, too, if she got together with Judeau. *Thinks again* Or with Griffith – he needs a hug. Guts too… Maybe Sylvia should be with him… He always looks so sad…  
Pearlyblue: *Gives Ladybug a weary look* Yeah, anyway… Our final review: Badenalda – It's good to know that you're reading on, and having fun! Please come again.  
Wakko: And everybody please remember to vote now… I mean… tell us your opinions. 'Cause it's not really a vote.  
Pearlyblue: Yeah. Gogogo!  
Ladybug: CHEERLEADING! YAAAAYY! *Whips out yellow, black-spotted pompoms from nowhere* Go! Go! Go!

----

Chibi Pearlyblue: *pops head in while the credits roll by in the background* Special announcement: A very special thanks to Elin1, for showing me how to make the html do what I wanted it to. Good luck with your own! *winks, waves and dissappears again* 


	8. Sylvia's gift

Wakko: So… here we are again.  
Ladybug: Hello, hello, hello! Ladybug missed you all!!  
Pearlyblue: Er… pardon us please, it wasn't our intention to go Missing In Action for so long… _clears throat and straightens out glasses_ … but it was _cough_ done with a purpose.  
Wakko: Really?  
Pearlyblue: Shh. Yes, you see, this is another demonstration of a typical thing that Mary-Sue authors do: They just stop writing their stories, or pull them off the 'net entirely because they didn't get enough _coughcough_glowing praise_coughcough_ reviews.  
Ladybug: Aaah, so THAT was what we were doing when we lazed off at the beach. Cool! Can we do that again?  
Pearlyblue: Er… NO! We were NOT lazing off at the beach, we were… eh… studying… eh… and thinking very hard.  
Wakko: I know I was. grins I learnt a lot of biology and chemistry…  
Ladybug: Ohh… darn… Pearlyblue: _frustrated_ Shut it, Wakko! Oh, yeah… _pats Ladybug_ you… you do that.  
Ladybug: Okay! _twitches_ Oh! Oh! Oh! Ladybug noticed something! You must know! There is a relative of Sylvia's here on this very site! It's right around the corner, and her name is Coci… Cossi… er… anyway, too long to remember. And she is veryvery sparkly, and has veryvery powerful magic, and sings to her broom… and I think she wants to marry Judeau in the end…  
Pearlyblue: **What…?** _dark green eyes begin to glow_  
Wakko and Ladybug: Eep!  
Wakko: Start the story! Quick, start the d-mn story!! Distract her! Anything!  
Ladybug: Eepeti-eep-eep!   
  


Chapter eight: Sylvia's gift.

As Sylvia gingerly lowered him onto the tent's one bed, Judeau gave her a worried frown. 

"Um… you do know that you just demonstrated your strength to all those guys out there, right?" 

Sylvia immediately blushed and released him, twiddling nervously with the hem of her tunic. "Yeah… well… I…" She guiltily cleared her throat. "I sort of… kinda… fought in the battle. So they kinda already know. And I think they heard when I told Mr. Corkus that I was a half-demon…" She studied her feet in embarrassment. "…Sorry. I… got carried away." 

Judeau thought for a moment, then shrugged and sighed, remembering the looks on the guys' faces just before he and Sylvia had entered the tent. 

"Ah, well… it seems to be all right, then." 

So, he thought, was that what Corkus was running away from? Well, he seems to be in a minority, then. What d'ya know. 

"Anyway," he reminded her, "You were going to make me stop bleeding…?" 

Sylvia was suddenly all apologies and eagerness. "Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry… Take off your pants, then. Come on." 

Judeau paused with his hands on his belt buckle and gave Sylvia a meaningful glance, which she completely seemed to miss. 

"What?" she asked, a completely clueless expression on her face. "You need help?" 

"No! Sylvia, would you please turn away?" 

She gave him an annoyed look and sighed. "Fine, whatever. You're such a fuzz, Judeau." She turned her back and huffily crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't see what you're being so shy about, though. It's not like we're courting or anything… and I'm sure you have a perfectly fine package, anyway." 

Judeau couldn't prevent himself from becoming beet red at that comment and he groaned, while carefully pulling his pants down: 

"Sylvia, remember what we said about complimenting body parts…?" 

She almost turned around, but thought better of it at the last moment. 

"Yeah," she said, confused, "But I thought you would know that I'm not _inviting_ you. Are you saying it's awkward _anyway?_" 

"Er… yes." He rolled over onto his stomach and tried to get his burning cheeks back under control. "You can turn around now." 

"Okay." Sylvia turned around with a big smile and flexed her fingers. "It's healing time!" Then her face fell, just a little. "Oh… that doesn't look good. Don't worry, though, I'll have it fixed in no time. It might feel a little strange, though…" 

Trying to prepare for whatever was going to happen, Judeau buried his face in the crook of his arm and fought not to think about how he was exposing himself to one of the absolutely most beautiful women he'd ever… or how she was going to put her dainty little hand on hisWhooaaa! 

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before: First a strange warmth spread out from the wound, completely blanking out any pain, and then it sort of… changed. Like some kind of benevolent, comforting energy wrapped around all of him – like being lowered into a warm bath after a long, cold winter day, and being held by the most gentle of lovers at the same time. He heard someone sigh blissfully, and distantly realised that it was himself. A feeling as if being caressed by calm and soothing hands ensued, again completely enveloping his entire body. Or soul… he wasn't sure. Somewhere far away, someone with a voice remarkably similar to his made a soft, purring sound. 

"Judeau…?" another voice called from that faraway place. "Are… are you all right?" 

He was slowly beginning to return to reality, but refused to open his eyes. The warm and lovely feeling lingered and tingled in his every vein, and he wanted to keep it for as long as he could. 

"Hmmmm?" 

A brief pause. "You look weird. I've never had anyone react like this to my healing, before. Are you feeling okay?" 

Judeau heaved another contented sigh. "Mm-hmmm…" 

"Okay." Another brief pause. "Well, you're okay now, though. As good as new!" He felt a small hand slap his exposed buttock. "Now you can pull up your pants, so I can heal the next one!" 

With that, Judeau was abruptly back to himself again. Whoa, what was… heal the next… pants…! 

He hurriedly half-rose onto his elbows, but was struck by a very acute insight – getting up right now, especially while not wearing pants, was an incredibly bad idea. He immediately flopped back down, and reached out for Sylvia instead – catching her wrist just as she turned towards the tent opening. 

"Hey, um…" He pulled his pants up with his other hand, while trying to think quickly – despite seemingly having a lot of his blood currently relocated from his brain to quite a different region. "Uh… Yeah, about the healing… um…" 

Sylvia patiently looked down at him. "Yes?" 

"Um… I really think you should be conserving your powers with that one. Um. Keep it to the seriously wounded only, I mean. Um." 

She frowned at him. "Why? If someone needs healing…" 

"Well, yeah, I know, but, um…" We don't want them to start mutilating themselves, a small voice said in the back of his mind. He quickly shut it up. "…You shouldn't be wasting time and energy on small cuts and simple bruises. Um. The field surgeons need to feel useful too, you know." 

"Ahhh…" Sylvia nodded in comprehension. "Yes, I see what you mean. It's very important to be useful." 

Judeau forced a smile onto his face and nodded, letting go of Sylvia's hand. "Yeah. Keep to the _seriously_ wounded." 

She radiantly beamed back at him, then hesitated and tilted her head to the side. "Are you sure you're all right? You look a little strained." 

Down, you annoying little bastard, down…! 

"Yeah, I'm fine. No problem. Just… a little tired, that's all. Err… I just need to rest for a bit. If you don't mind, I'm just gonna stay here for a while. Um. It's comfy." 

Nice, you moron, he thought to himself. Way to sound like a complete idiot… 'It's comfy'. 

But Sylvia just nodded cheerfully. "Okay! I'll just be outside, then, healing the others." 

"Okay," Judeau nodded, still having to force the smile. "Good luck! And… thanks." 

"You're welcome!" 

Thank god for naïveté, he thought as she lightly pranced out of the tent. Caska would most likely have caught on and either been insulted, or teased him ruthlessly about it. 

He buried his face in his arms again and sighed heavily. 

…Oh god… That was me making those sounds, wasn't it…? And why can I not help acting like a hormonal teenager around that girl?

* * *

Sylvia was confused, admittedly. But then again, she didn't often understand humans, it seemed. Judeau had smelled like he was in heat, which was totally weird – all demons she'd ever practiced her healing skills on had always reacted negatively, in all different kind of ways from making a very strained and pained face – like her mother – to running away, screaming at the top of their lungs, like her great-grand-uncle Borgo.

Of course, papa had always gotten really annoying and sappy-mushy, and would hug her and cuddle her and speak baby-talk to her for hours afterwards… but no one – none – had ever reacted by going into heat. She frowned. Maybe it was a human thing… no, papa was human. Well, mostly. 

Hm. Most confusing. 

She returned her mind to the present and gazed thoughtfully at the long line of Hawk soldiers outside the tent. They all looked so eager… it was going to be such a shame to let them down. But Judeau was right – the worst first, the rest could easily be dealt with by the human healers. 

"Listen!" she shouted, making her voice just loud enough for all the assembled to hear, "I'm sorry, I changed my mind. You all have to go to the surgeons' tent: I will conserve my power for those who are really badly wounded. Is anyone here really badly wounded?" 

Quite a few guys eagerly thrust their hands into the air. A small number disappointedly hung their heads and shuffled off. Sylvia walked up to the nearest remaining Hawk and looked him over. He had a few scratches, but nothing much, and she frowned in confusion. 

"But… you're not hurt." 

He was smiling widely. "Yeah, sure I am." He raised one eyebrow in insinuation and tapped his chest with one finger. "In here, baby. Hurting for you." 

Sylvia's frown deepened and she sniffed curiously at him. "What are you talking about? You're hardly even bleeding!" Then she stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. He sort of smelled like he was in heat, too. What was _this,_ now? 

"Listen," she said, calmly but sternly, "I only patch people up, who are really, physically wounded. Okay? You're wasting my time, and while you're doing that, someone else might _die._ Now take me to the _wounded._" 

While she talked, several of the other Hawks suddenly looked like they got preoccupied with other things and quietly dropped off. The man she'd been telling off took one step back and blushed in embarrassment. 

"Er… Yes, sure… I was just joking. Sorry." He looked around, a little desperately, and began leading her back onto the abandoned battlefield. After a short while, he stopped and pointed. "Over there!" 

A weak voice called out, from the direction the Hawk was pointing: "Help… someone…" 

It didn't sound very hopeful, though. Sylvia gave the soldier by her side a quick smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

"Thanks! Now you hurry back to the surgeons and get those bruises looked at." 

He actually saluted her before turning and running off, but Sylvia didn't bother looking after him. She hurried over towards the sound of the hopeless voice. 

The soldier didn't look good at all. In fact, had she been a demon of lesser strength of mind, she might have started salivating at the sight of all that blood. He hadn't had any armour on, it seemed, and besides having had his leg cut open almost from the hip to the knee, he also looked to have been stabbed straight through the chest. His breaths were short, laboured and wheezing, and his skin was deathly pale and clammy. 

In a few more minutes, he would have been dead, had she not been there. He hazily focused on her when she sat down next to him, and blinked slowly, twice. 

"…Holy…" he mumbled. "I'm going to heaven? I thought… heaven wasn't for… soldiers like me…" 

Sylvia smiled and gently stroked his chin. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm here to save you." With that, she took his head in both hands and focused her energy through the teardrop pendant around her neck. She could only barely see the light begin to glow from the heart of the diamond before her eyes slid shut and she let the fingers of her mind do their work. 

The wounded soldier gasped, deeply, and his skin immediately started feeling warmer under her hands. Through him, she could feel his wounds begin to close. As the blood stopped flowing, the man let out a quiet, breathless moan, and she could feel his heartbeats grow stronger and steadier. When the wound on his leg finally closed, though, he was breathing heavily, as if strained. 

She withdrew her spirit and opened her eyes, but held onto his face and studied it worriedly. Had she accidentally taken energy from him, or something? Maybe she'd healed him too quickly… or maybe the healing process was hard on the weak, human body… 

But as his eyes blinkingly drifted open, the look in them was one of disbelieving fascination – not of pain or weariness. He pulled in a ragged breath, meaning to speak, but then choked and started coughing up the blood that had gathered in his lungs. Sylvia quickly came to his aid and steadied him, patting him gently on the back. After a few moments, he seemed to be able to breathe properly again, and she gently leaned him back. He wiped his mouth with one hand and gave her a smile that was almost shy. 

"Uh… I'm sorry… I hope you didn't get any on you…" 

"Ah, don't worry." She smiled radiantly and patted him on the cheek. "I'm just glad you're okay now." 

He blushed, his grin widening, and cleared his throat. 

"Say…" he hesitantly mumbled, unable to look away from her face. "This might seem like a stupid question… but… are you an angel? Have… have I really died and gone to… to heaven? 'Cause I really didn't expect dying to feel like _that_…" 

"Awww, that's so sweet," Sylvia giggled. "But no, you're still alive. It's just me, Sylvia – remember me? The one who cooked dinner tonight…?" 

He blinked at her. "Oh yeah… I didn't get a good look at you later. Wow, you're… I mean… Wow." 

Sylvia cocked her head to the side. "Er, thanks…?" Then she patted his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. "Anyway, you're going to be fine, now. Just rest for a while – you look a little… strained." She took a quick sniff at the air, but all she could smell was blood. 

Ah well… 

She got up and dusted herself off. "But I've gotta go now, and see if there are any others that need healing." She waved at him. "Take it easy!" 

When she twirled around, she noticed that her pant leg seemed to snag on something, and briefly turned back. The soldier quickly let go, and blushed a deeper shade of red. 

"Um… My name is Joachim… if you'd ever want to find me… or need a favour or a helping hand or something – anything." 

Sylvia beamed at him. "Thank you, Joachim! I'll remember that!" He smiled back at her, and she left with another little wave.

* * *

Handing over the reins of his horse to one of his men, Griffith promptly demanded to know if anyone had an idea of Lady Sylvia's whereabouts. One of the Hawks finally mentioned that he'd last seen her in the surgeons' tent, and his heart almost caught in his throat. Had she been injured, after all? Had he really seen what he thought he'd seen, back then? It seemed so improbable now that the rush of battle had worn off…

He hurried over to the surgeons' with a freezing cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, and almost ran right into a stunned doctor the moment he tore the tent flap open. The man didn't even seem to notice him – he was staring, mesmerised, at his index finger. 

Frowning impatiently, Griffith grabbed the man's shoulder and shook him firmly. 

"_Excuse me_, have you seen Lady Sylvia?" 

The doctor looked up at him as if he didn't really see him at first, then he pointed dazedly over his shoulder further into the tent. Griffith let him resume his stunned inspection of his finger and hurried on. After only a few steps he heard a bright, female voice chatting lightly, and when he pushed one of the inner flaps aside he found the very lady he'd been looking for, sitting in the middle of a minor throng of soldiers. 

"Oh, Sir Griffith!" she cheerfully exclaimed when she saw him, waving happily, and suddenly many of the soldiers seemed a little embarrassed and preoccupied. Griffith frowned inwardly, but stepped up to Sylvia with an equally bright smile on his face. 

"Ah, Lady Sylvia. I am so glad to find you unharmed – I was quite worried…" 

"Oh!" she suddenly cried, leaning forward and unexpectedly cupping his cheek with one small, dainty hand. "You're hurt! Please, let me…" 

Griffith quickly found himself and gave her a reassuring smile. Since he'd not had the time to put on his helmet, he'd received a scratch on the cheek. 

"Really, Lady Sylvia, it's noth-" He almost bit his own tongue as a wave of warmth and… pleasure washed through him from the palm of her hand. The world around him suddenly seemed to change – colours seemed brighter, her scent completely drowned out the smell of blood, and somehow everything but Sylvia's perfect face, deep, beautiful eyes, and soft, rosy lips faded away, becoming extremely unimportant. He felt himself lean forward, into her touch, closing the distance between his lips and hers… and she frowned very slightly, taking her hand away from his cheek. Griffith halted himself, blinking uncertainly at her. 

"Oh my…" she whispered quietly to herself, her delicate nostrils flaring. "…You, too. Dearie, dearie me… I _am_ doing it…" 

"Hunh?" 

Sylvia's smile was very slightly strained, but still beautifully radiant. 

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Er. You're all fixed now." 

Griffith dazedly touched his cheek. The small wound was completely gone, without a trace. 

"Amazing…" he murmured. "How did you do that?" 

She blushed adorably and squirmed slightly. "Um… well… it's a gift I have. It's a part of me being a… you know… half-demon. Um. And I… I… I'm very, very sorry, Sir Griffith – I fought in the battle. I know you didn't want me to, but I… I…" She looked away with a remorseful sigh. "I'm sorry." 

Griffith's brain finally started working the way it should again, and he studied the shameful woman before him a little more closely. So aside from being able to hand out even more punishment than Guts, she could heal people almost instantly… 

"It's… okay, Lady Sylvia. To be honest, I wanted to keep you off the battlefield because… well… I didn't believe you actually were a half-demon. Please understand, Lady Sylvia… demons are not exactly commonplace…" 

"Oh, I know," she interrupted, patting his hand reassuringly. "Judeau explained that." 

Griffith froze for a short moment. 

Judeau knew before me? 

His surprise, and maybe some of the displeasure he felt at this realisation, must have shown in some way on his face, because Sylvia gave him a bit of a worried look. 

"What? Did I… did I say something stupid again?" 

He quickly wiped the expression off his face with another smile. 

It doesn't matter. Why should it matter? 

"No, no, Lady Sylvia. Not at all. It's just that now that I know how formidable you are in battle, I might reconsider not having you at the front…" 

Sylvia squealed and bounced. "I get to fight with you?! In the frontline?! YAY!" And with that she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. As Griffith fought for air, he found himself enveloped once again in her intoxicating, flowery scent. It threatened to go to his head, and he wasn't at all sure of what would happen if he let it – and that concept filled him with such a chill that he immediately managed to get himself under full control. 

"_Provided_, Lady Sylvia," he coughed, "That your safety can be guaranteed." 

She released him and leaned back again, giving him a not-quite-comprehending look. Griffith ignored his own racing heartbeats and gave Sylvia a very level look. 

"I assume you still belong somewhere, my Lady. You have parents or other guardians who are looking for you…?" 

She looked away with a slight, guilty blush on her beautiful cheekbones. 

"Well… yeah…" 

"Well, then I'm sure they would not be happy if they found that you had been hurt while staying here with the Hawks. I don't want to have to be responsible for getting you injured." 

"Oh, but that's no problem at all!" Sylvia chirped eagerly. "If there really only are humans here – no demons or dragons or other monsters, just humans – then they really can't hurt me. You see, my skin seems as smooth as any humans', but it's really a lot tougher – and I'm stronger than anyone I've met, so far – even stronger than Pippin! And I'm too fast, really, nobody can even _touch_ me!" 

She laid her hands on his arm and pleadingly looked up into his face. 

"I won't get hurt, I promise! I _can't_ get hurt! I really, really promise. Pleeeeeaaase…" 

Griffith carefully hid his satisfied grin behind a gentle smile, and calmly took her hands into his. 

"Well then, Lady Sylvia. We can surely arrange something." 

Sylvia gave another cheerful squeal and threw herself into his arms again, trying to bounce and hug at the same time. 

"Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!" 

Griffith felt his cheeks grow oddly warm at the sensations of Sylvia, but kept himself strictly in check, patting her back. "You're most welcome, Lady Sylvia. It will be an honour to fight by your side." 

She released her grip slightly and gave him a most brilliant smile, coupled with a gorgeous blush. "Really? You really mean that? Oh, you are so sweet!" And then she giggled cutely but gave him a very serious look. "I swear I won't let you down, Sir Griffith!" 

He smiled back and straightened up, giving her a courteous bow. "Now then, if you excuse me, Lady Sylvia, I still have many matters to attend to. I am just happy to know that you are safe, and I'm sure you would rather retire now…" 

"Uh, yeah, about that…" Sylvia interrupted, a hint of uncertainty suddenly entering her beautiful features. "…I don't know where I'm supposed to sleep." 

Griffith blinked, and blinked again. "Oh dear… We have not made sleeping arrangements for you, have we? Oh no… how terribly embarrassing. We will of course see to this at once…" 

"Okay, well," Sylvia interrupted again, putting one dainty finger to her full lips, "I guess I could stay with Judeau – but that might be embarrassing to him… and – oh – it might ruin his chances… hmmm… And I suppose it would be less embarrassing if I slept in Caska's tent – but I, um, don't think she likes me all that much…" 

Not fully following Sylvia's twisting line of reasoning, an idea nonetheless dawned upon Griffith. Here was an opportunity not to be missed in binding Sylvia to himself. 

"Oh no, Lady Sylvia, I will have none of that. It was my responsibility to make sure you got proper lodgings, so it is my responsibility to put things right again. You will of course sleep in my tent." 

"Oh, okay… if that's not a problem for you." 

He gave her a charming smile. 

"No problem at all, I assure you." A faint shuffling and murmur of disappointment and jealousy issued from the men in the background, but with a quick gesture from Griffith they began to disperse. "You will take my bed, and I shall require a bedroll from the supply wagon…" 

"Oh, don't be silly, I won't keep you from your own bed. I don't take up much space." 

Griffith hesitated. Had he really comprehended that right? 

"Sorry, what?" 

"Yeah, we'll just sleep feet-to-feet – unless your bed is, like, really, really small, it shouldn't be a problem." 

"Uhh… now…" Griffith was struggling with himself. He knew what he was _supposed_ to be thinking, but it wasn't at all what was going through his mind. For once in his life, he was having trouble finding the right words, and that was an almost frightening experience. 

This woman…! he thought. She never does what one expects her to do! She's… remarkable! 

He hid his confusion with a subtle cough. "…That would really not be appropriate, I'm afraid." 

"Ooh… I see. You humans have such weird rules, sometimes, y'know. Well, then you take your bed and I'll sleep on the floor, no problem." 

She jumped up and brushed herself off, and Griffith quickly found his charming smile again. 

"Absolutely not, my Lady, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let such a delicate creature sleep on the hard ground? Why, I would not get a wink of sleep." 

She gave him a strange glance, then rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, all right. 'When in, do as.' Fine, I'll take your silly bed." As he offered her his arm, to escort her to the tent, she gave him another sideways glance and added wryly: "Though, you're probably a lot more 'delicate' than I. You know that, right?" 

He smiled. "Well… I believe I'm coming to that understanding, yes."

* * *

Griffith held the tent flap open for Sylvia and then followed her in. Some considerate subordinate had lighted a single lamp, and it provided sufficient light to illuminate the sparse interiors of his tent.

He swept his hand around to encompass it all. "I hope you will be comfortable here, Lady Sylvia. Tomorrow, we will make arrangements to give you your own tent, but for tonight, this will hopefully do…" 

"I get my own tent?" She gave him a very sparkly smile that sent pleasurable shivers down his spine, and took him briefly by the hand. "You're so nice! Thank you! But yeah, this is just fine for tonight." 

Then, to his great surprise and shock, she pulled her top off as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do, and started working on the bindings of her trousers. Griffith stood shell-shocked for a few moments, completely taken aback and stunned by her perfect beauty, until his sense of ethics finally kicked in and he hurriedly turned away, out of the tent. 

This woman really did _nothing_ the way one expected her to. And his face felt oddly warm. 

Feeling unpleasantly and uncharacteristically uncertain on himself and just about everything else, Griffith didn't return to his tent until well after Sylvia had settled down and fallen asleep. 

To be continued…   
  
Pearlyblue: I am a little disappointed, actually… not that we have any right to be disappointed in our reviewers, after being gone for so long, ourselves, but…  
Ladybug: What is Pearl disappointed at?  
Wakko: My guess? Not enough sex.  
Pearlyblue: Ack! But… NO! Wakko! That's not it at all! I meant that I'm disappointed that nobody cared to answer our poll-question-thing. Y'know, about who they thought Sylvia should end up with, in the end.  
Wakko: but… that doesn't matter. We already know…  
Pearlyblue: Yes. I know. **I** know. It just would have been interesting to hear their thoughts, is all. Anyway, let's get on to the Reviewer Responses.  
Ladybug: Yaaay! magical-flyingdragon! _waves_ Hiiiii!! Sorry it took so long! We're continuing now. Please keep reading! _looks furtively left and right_ Psst… can Ladybug ride on that flying dragon someday? Pleeeeeeeease?  
Wakko: Vitellio-  
Ladybug: Ooh, what's this? _grabs the books Vitellio handed over_ The bookies? Ooh!  
Pearlyblue: Oh no! quick, get them away from her…!  
Wakko: _catches Pearl and holds her back_ Take it easy, girl…  
Pearlyblue: No! I won't let her be corrupted! We need her like this! I don't want to drown in her tears!  
Wakko: Calm down. No worries. Just let her open the first book and get to the first page, and you'll see.  
Ladybug: hum de dum dee dum… EEEEEK!!! ICKYICKYICKYICKY! _throws books away and begins running around in the background_ ICKYICKYICKYICKYICKY…!!  
Wakko: See? She's immune to corruption, that one. Believe you me, I've tried and tried and tr- eh… _grins at glowering Pearlyblue, trying to look innocent_ Not like that, of course… I was just kidding… _cough_  
Pearlyblue: Mm-hmmm… _slowly turns back to the reviews_ Jaded Soul2… thank you very much for appreciating the finer points of our parody. We hope you keep reading and enjoying!  
Wakko: Thunder Mistress, our old pal. Dude, I have one good advice for you: Get over him. He's not good for you. I'm the only one who can handle him- Er, I mean, just let the man go, he's not worth it.  
Ladybug: _in the background_…ICKYICKYICKYICKYICKY…!!  
Pearlyblue: Er, yeah. _clears throat_ Merit Somnia. Thank you. You will find out soon enough. I hope you liked this chapter! grins  
Wakko: _stuffing ears with cotton_ Drachen: Grand! Great! Just what we were hoping for! Pull them in by the humour, keep 'em in with the story! _cough_Or sex_cough_ Hope we can keep your interest!  
Ladybug: ICKYICKYICKYICKY!! _stops, stares angrily at the evil Berserk manga_ YAR! LADYBUG SPARKLE!! _poses, waving arms around until she releases her energy in a pink lightbeam surrounded by red hearts and yellow ladybugs. The Berserk manga promptly transforms into 25 copies of "My Little Pony" comics._ There. _straightens out her hair and dress_ Now… Mr Crimson King, Sir! Are you really a king? Thank you for saying such nice things about us! I always wanted to meet a king! Do you have a sparkly crown and everything?  
Wakko: hisses at Ladybug I HATE it when she does that! Argh! _hides on the other side of Pearlyblue_ Where's my whip?!  
Pearlyblue: Oh, hush, you. Kemurikat! We are very sorry that we made it seem like we had abandoned the story! We haven't, we promise. And we won't. Please keep reading and reviewing!  
Wakko: Last but not least, Portia6. Thank you for reviewing. As you can see, we heeded your desperate plea for a continuation. Aren't we heroes? Now just let me sweep you off your feet and _whispers some nasty things_  
Pearlyblue: _Sweatdrops_ WAKKO!!! Stop harassing the reviewers!  
Wakko: HITTING on! Not HARASSING: HITTING on! There's a big difference! I'm just hitting on him… her… it… whatever!  
Pearlyblue: Well, STOP IT!  
_bickering fades off into the background  
_Ladybug: _humming to self_ Pink, pink, pink, pink, is my favourite crayon… something, something, pink…


	9. Sylvia's family

Pearlyblue: (appears waving white flag tentatively over her head) Er… hello all! We're a bit late in updating again… No hard feelings, I hope… (ducks, just in case.)  
Ladybug: (Pops up out of nowhere) What is Pearl talking… Oh! (sees audience and waves happily) Hiiii!! Love you! Missed you!  
Wakko: (comes trudging by, pauses and glances over at the audience) Ho-Whoa! I… er… (hides sun lotion and sunglasses behind her back, along with a really skimpy bikini) We weren't on vacation! I promise! We were not slacking off! We were really very busy! (runs off to change out of bathrobe)  
Pearlyblue: (glares after the disappearing Wakko with a sweatdrop) …Yeah… Well… so much for that, then. Okay, well, now we are back, okay? This chapter may not be very long, but it was a good place to endand at least I wanted to update – for once!  
Ladybug: (pouts) Heyy… Ladybug wanted to update, too… Ladybug wants sparkly reviewsies! (sparkles and suddenly grins from ear to ear) Ladybug loves sparkly reviewsies! Loooooves them!  
Pearlyblue: (sweatdrops again)…Right.  
Wakko (comes back, fluffing her hair up and whistling innocently) So, wanna get this show underway or what?  
Ladybug: (gaaaaasps) Oooh! Pearl, Pearl, Pearl! Is this the chappie where the… and the… and the small one…?!  
Pearlyblue: (blinks, bewildered) Uh… Yeah, sure. That's the one, all right.  
Ladybug: YAAAY!  
Pearlyblue (surreptitiously leans over to Wakko) I don't… did you get that?  
Wakko (smiles and shrugs) Don't ask me: The only one who ever really has a clue as to what she's talking about, is her.

* * *

Chapter nine: Sylvia's family.

On a bedroll on the floor of his tent, just far enough away from Sylvia to feel comfortable, Griffith woke up in the pale early-morning light by a light tickle against the side of his throat and a whisperingly sniffing noise. Remembering in an instant the beautiful and confusing young woman who'd spent the night in his bed, he was immediately wide awake.

"E-e-eh?"

But the sight that greeted his unfocused eyes was not at all what he'd expected. Instead of looking into big, odd-coloured eyes framed by wispy, golden-red curls, he found himself staring at a decidedly smaller face. It was opalescent black in colour, with soft, white tufts sprouting from the top of its head, its chin, and the sides of its face, and the eyes that stared back at him from this confusing countenance were a piercing, light lavender in colour.

And it was absolutely not human in any way. As a thin, forked, blue tongue shot out and tickled his chin, Griffith finally found his wits and scurried backwards with a startled yelp. The thing flew backwards as well, jaws open to reveal sharp teeth as pearly white as Sylvia's, and displayed all four of its paws and the dangerous-looking, jet black claws on them as well as its opal-white belly-plates. It hung there in mid air, while two specks that looked like trembling, angry orange-red eyes flickered behind it.

As soon as the initial shock had worn off, Griffith noticed that the thing was not at all as big as he had first thought it was. In fact, it was merely about two hand's breadths in length, not counting its long, whipping, white-tufted tail. Except for the silky little fur-tufts on its face, tail and backs of its legs, it looked an awful lot like the legendary dragon. Well, that and its rather unimpressive size.

"What the…?"

The tiny dragon-thing hissed and spat a quick, angry little sound at him before whirring off towards the prone form of Sylvia. Griffith was on his feet and fumbling for his sword in a heartbeat, not at all convinced of this weird creature's harmlessness.

But Sylvia just languidly reached out with one delicate, porcelain-white arm and allowed the thing to perch there. Her voice, still thick and drowsy with the remnants of sleep drifted up out of the blankets.

"Garou, I thought I told you a million times not to startle the servants… I don't wanna wake up yet… I had such a wonderful dream about that… guy…" A very brief silence, filled with thought so intensive that it was almost audible, and then Sylvia sat bolt upright, crushing the little dragon-thing against her ample, uncovered bosom, squealing: "GAROU!! Oh, my dear, darling, precious little Garou! Oh, I missed you so much! Mommy's widdle snugglekins has found its way home again! Ohhh!"

The thing was making small, forced noises and struggling wanly against Sylvia's tight embrace, but managed to warble excitedly between chokes and gasps. Griffith carefully turned his back to the scene, feeling his face heat up again at the sight of so much of Sylvia – in the flesh. No woman had ever had this kind of effect on him. Never.

"Err… I take it that you know this little… creature, then, Lady Sylvia?"

"Oh yes!" Sylvia chirped behind him. " Garou is my soulbound protector, my spirit beast, my bestest friend, my token animal companion, my Manitou… my widdle dwagonfwy snugglekinsy poo-bear shnoozie!"

A mildly annoyed warble followed, which _almost_ sounded like "Enough already, MO-OM!"

"Well… all right… I suppose there's no problem, then. Um, would you mind…?"

"Mommy's widdle wriggly worm… Aw, I've missed you… Hm? What's this?" A faint gasp. "A message? From mother? No?"

A quick warble. 

"Not a message? A _link?_ Awesome! Patch me up immediately!"

The warble sounded quite reproachful this time.

"Presentable? What do you mean?" Brief silence. "Oh. Yeah. I'll put something on."

Another warble. 

"Really? Huh…" Then a small hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "L-Sir Griffith, my mother wishes to speak with you later. And probably the other commanders, too. If you've got the time."

He turned around to give her a polite smile but immediately turned back. She still wasn't wearing anything. For once in his life, Griffith cursed his fair complexion that made the blush so evident in his face. He coughed to hide his discomfiture.

"Er, yes, that should be no problem. We have to confer, anyway, about the tactics of our next battle… I'll have them all together in a matter of hours. Hrm. I'll wait outside while you get dressed, and then we will have some breakfast. How does that sound to you?"

"Just perfect! Thanks! But when are _you_ going to get dressed? Or do you usually eat breakfast in merely breeches?"

"Er, no. I'll just dress outside. Join me when you are ready."

"Okay."

* * *

Corkus was not in the best of moods. The doctors would rather have kept him in bed for at least a couple more days, but when he'd gotten the message that Griffith wanted all his commanders gathered in the conference tent, he'd finally had enough leverage to effectively tell them to go to hell.

The stitches in his arm hurt every time he moved too fast, and all the smaller, bandaged wounds made it hard for him to manage to walk upright, and without a limp. The pain was annoying and made everything more difficult, except ignoring the dark, dull little ache of self-loathing that coiled in the pit of his stomach.

_Sylvia… _ He'd thought about it, last night. Thought a lot while his wounds kept him awake, as if delivering some kind of just punishment for him having been such a complete ass. He'd tried to tell himself that he'd done the right thing, that she was not only out of his league, but of a completely different species, to boot. He knew, of course that it would never work out between them – might as well face it, they were literally WORLDS apart – but somehow, he'd just never really managed to convince himself that the things he'd said to her, last night, were true.

He wanted to hate her, he really, really did, but every time he saw a flicker of red or yellow in the corner of his eye, his heart sped up. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw crystal tears running down alabaster cheeks, pale with hurt and shock. And then, his stomach would churn again.

_Damn her! Damn it all!_

He didn't really notice, but people were giving him quite a wide berth as he trudged on towards the conference tent.

_Curse it! If I never, ever have to see her again, it'll be too soon!_

He tore the tent flap aside – and was awarded with a sharp stab of pain that almost brought tears to his eyes – only to come eye-to-eye with the very woman that had been so effectively occupying his thoughts. She immediately blushed and blinked her long, dark eyelashes at him, her delicate mouth forming a surprised little "o".

"What are _you_ doing here?" he hissed before she'd had a chance to say anything. It came out a lot more harsh and angry than he'd intended, but with the intense pain in his arm and the nasty thing churning in his stomach, he didn't really care right now.

She froze for an instant, in which he got a very good view of what the face of a broken heart looks like, and then she spun around and half-ran over to Judeau. She snuck in behind the blond scout and hid her face behind her own, red-golden curls. Judeau, on the other hand, sent Corkus an unusually angry and reprimanding look.

"Lady Sylvia is here," Griffith's euphonious voice called Corkus' attention over to where the pale commander sat at the head of the table, "Because she has a message to us from her mother." He turned to the flustered woman (and Corkus felt a completely unwanted surge of anger as he saw that Sylvia's delicate little hand was shyly resting in Judeau's). "My Lady, now that we are all present…?"

Sylvia looked up, as if startled. "Oh… yes, right. But…" she cleared her throat and pulled her hand out of Judeau's gentle hold. "Eh, it's actually not a message… Mother wants to… er… okay, I think I'd better just show you."

She reached into her pocket and looked up with a slightly worried expression on her face. "Don't be scared, okay? And don't run away, please. That could trigger her… erm… that could be considered an insult. Yeah."

Trudging over to his place by the table, Corkus frowned. What the hell was going to happen _now?_

She opened her slender fingers to reveal a large, black marble with a very faint reddish glow in its centre. As she pursed her rosy lips and blew on it, the red glow increased and seemed to leave its black shell, forming delicate tendrils of smoke that lifted the pearl from her hand. As the light grew in intensity and more, fuller wisps of ethereal smoke drifted out, the black marble slowly rose higher – until, with a sudden burst of speed, it flew to the conference table and settled perfectly in its middle. Red mist poured forth, twisting and coiling around itself, until a more solid shape slowly took form in their midst. Then they parted, and revealed something quite unbelievable.

It was undoubtedly female, and very remarkably so. Though only about three feet tall, the very slightly transparent figure gave the distinct impression of standing tall, and it radiated power. The resemblance to Sylvia was unmistakeable, except that the eyes that coldly surveyed the room were completely without compassion, warmth or love, and a very deep blood red in colour – and that this woman was, if possible, even more radiantly beautiful than Sylvia. Her skin was pristinely white, like snow, and her hair was as black as any raven's wing, with crimson stripes running through it at tasteful intervals. Her posture was proud, perhaps even haughty, and she had loosely crossed her arms over her chest, tapping a taloned finger slowly against the exotic armour that she wore under the long, flowing fabric that fell from her shoulders to her feet in subtle waves – almost creating the illusion of a long, beautiful dressing gown.

Her ears were prolonged, stretching sharply back from her head and ending in points that almost looked as though she could stab someone with them, and her noble forehead was adorned with the most beautifully crafted golden tiara. There was one stone in it, right at its centre, that looked eerily like a predatory, dark amethyst eye.

But beyond that, even though she was stunningly beautiful, this woman had a presence and an aura that left any who looked at her with a lingering sense of fear. Like a small, helpless lamb who suddenly found itself staring a hungry wolf in the eye.

She turned to Sylvia, and Corkus could _swear_ that the eye in the tiara blinked.

"So," she said, with a voice at once so hypnotically sweet, and so full of unquestionable authority, "This is where you're staying." One delicate, raven black eyebrow lifted slowly in a very subtle gesture of displeasure.

"Y-yeah," Sylvia stuttered eagerly, smiling and blushing slightly at the same time. She gestured at the white-haired man at the head of the table. "Mother, this is Laaaa- _Sir_ Griffith, he's the leader of an army…" She stopped abruptly and almost looked like she'd bit her tongue. Sylvia's mother's gaze hardened just a little further, and her clothes rustled as if moved by a soft wind.

"I see," she said, and the temperature dropped significantly in the tent. "You are the one with the ultimate responsibility for my daughter." The eye in the tiara remained fixed on Griffith as the Demon Queen glanced over at her daughter. "And I had already understood that you were in an army camp, dear. They are wearing armour. Now, don't get any ideas into your head just because of that – you know you are not strong enough to partake in battle."

Corkus just stared. If _Sylvia _wasn't good enough, who was? He expected her to defend herself, but the red-blond woman merely squirmed uncomfortably, blushed furiously, and mumbled something inaudible.

"What was that, dear?"

"…Yes, Mother."

"That's a good girl. Now, Mr Griffith…"

"Er…" Sylvia raised one tentative finger. The Demon Queen's glance was slightly annoyed, this time.

"Yes?"

"Can… can I introduce the others…?"

The Queen's blood-red eyes closed for a moment in what looked strangely like resignation. "…Go ahead."

Sylvia smiled shyly and quickly proceeded.

"This-" Her hand landed softly on Judeau's shoulder. "-Is Judeau, he's the commander of the scouts and… and… er… he's my friend."

A faint wrinkle appeared over the Demon Queen's aristocratic nose. "…Friend?"

"Yes." Sylvia's posture became just a little more defiant, while Judeau looked like he'd rather be somewhere else, entirely. "He's my friend. A really good friend."

The Queen's eyes closed again (except for the one in the tiara, which remained steadily fixed on Judeau) and her head drooped very, very slightly towards her chest.

"A friend." She raised her head again and let out a calm breath. "Well… leave it to you to make friends with food."

Sylvia's blush became just a little deeper, and she muttered something again. This time, the Queen's eyes narrowed in a rather terrifying way. Her voice was tight and clipped as it scolded her daughter:

"Your father is a different matter entirely, child. Don't you dare compare him to these… _livestock!_ And don't use that tone with me, I don't appreciate it."

Sylvia scraped her foot and looked down at the floor. "…'M sorry."

A short silence followed, in which the Queen's cold eyes again surveyed all the people in the tent. Then she heaved a tired little sigh.

"Oh, for damnation's sake… I'm not going to eat you. Don't look so terrified. The only reason why I should bother with eating any of you bony, sinewy people would be if any of you-" And Corkus was absolutely certain that when she said this, the deep purple eye of the tiara turned right to him, and _stared_. "-Were to hurt my daughter. Or let her come to harm." All three of her eyes now fixed firmly on Griffith again.

"As I was going to say, Mr Griffith, I will hold you ultimately responsible for her safety. We will be coming to get her as soon as we can, and we will want her back in – as you say – 'one piece'. Is that clear?"

Griffith bowed deeply, seeming for all the world remarkably unaffected by the predatory, overwhelming presence of the Demon Queen. "Perfectly, your Highness. I give you my solemn word that she will come to no harm."

"Well… whatever that means to me, I thank you. We will arrive in maybe a month or two – travelling between planes is… a complicated matter – and during this time, you must host my daughter and make sure that she has everything she needs. I will of course compensate you for this. What manner of payment do you use in your realm? I forget…"

Griffith had looked up with a pleasantly surprised look on his face as the Demon Queen mentioned compensation, and spread his hands in a generous, self-effacing gesture.

"Well, your Majesty… whatever compensation you deem worthy will be perfect, I am sure."

She raised another perfect eyebrow.

"Well, aren't you the clever one. But you do, of course, realise that that means I could just as well pay you in trapped souls. Somehow, though, I don't think that would be anything you could have any use for."

Griffith bowed again and smiled apologetically.

"Indeed not, your Highness. In this world, we usually deal in gold."

"Hm." The Demon Queen seemed to look off to the side for a moment. "Would that not be terribly heavy to cart around?"

The only hint of emotion in Griffith was a momentary brightening of his smile. But he calmly steepled his fingers in front of himself and seemed to give the matter some thought.

"Well… precious jewels and gemstones are also very attractive… some are worth a lot more than gold."

She nodded almost imperceptibly. "I see. Fine. Jewels it is, then. Half now and half when we arrive to pick Sylvia up. Deal?"

Griffith nodded uncertainly and spoke softly: "Certainly… but… half now? How…?"

The Demon Queen raised a snow-white hand and snapped her slender fingers once, with the sound like the crack of a whip. The very same instant, a medium-sized chest appeared on the table in front of the small figure. It was crafted in beautiful, reddish wood of an unknown kind and was fitted with what appeared to be gold-plated iron.

"Through this link," the Demon Queen tiredly stated, "I can send small quantities of inanimate matter. However, the energy of the soul-pearl is almost used up, so I will not be able to communicate with you for much longer. There is your payment, now I trust we understand each other in that if you were to fail in your duties of keeping my daughter safe, or take this money and try to run, I will find you and deliver you to Hell's gates by the most excruciating means. Yes?"

Even Griffith had to swallow nervously at this: The cold, definite truth in her voice was unmistakable, and anyone with any spark of imagination was not having much trouble thinking up what "by the most excruciating means" could mean. However, his voice betrayed nothing.

"Certainly, your Majesty."

"Right, then-" Her attention left Griffith as abruptly and completely as if he had been something nasty that she'd had to hold for a while, and relocated to Sylvia. "-Sylvia, dear, before I forget, here is your weapon and your armour. Now I hope you'll manage to stay alive until your father and I can get there…?"

Sylvia held out her hands and mumbled, "Yes, Mother."

The Demon Queen nodded curtly and snapped her fingers twice. At the first, a beautifully crafted brace appeared on Sylvia's lower right arm. It was a shimmering opalescent white and looked almost like it was made from some kind of scaly hide. Imbued upon it, in gold fitting, was one flame-orange gemstone the size of an egg. It sparkled briefly, and a quiet hum filled the air. Then the second snap sounded, and a huge, two-handed flail appeared in Sylvia's other hand. It, too, had an egg-shaped flame-stone fastened in gold to its base, and its handle was wrapped with what appeared to be pastel pink and pearly white silk ribbons. These continued up all the way to the weapon's jointed middle, where they flowed out, one white and one pink, down to twice the length of the handle. The pink ribbon had delicately embroidered white flowers down all its length, and the white had pink ones. The heavy, spiked head of the flail was crafted in some grey, unidentifiable metal and adorned with an intricately complicated pattern in radiant silver, twisting in and out between the short, stubby spikes.

As soon as the weapon had appeared, the ribbons lifted and flew to Sylvia, caressing her forms and face with what almost seemed like intelligent intent and tenderness – as if the thing was happy to see her.

Corkus could only blink. All this was just too much, and far too weird, to do anything but accept as it was. He glanced over at Judeau, to see if the scout commander was having the same experience, and saw him do a double-take at the swirling ribbons. Apparently, something else, beside their behaviour and mere _existence_, was strange about them.

And when the ribbons curled up against Sylvia, the golden-red haired beauty smiled the first real smile Corkus had seen this day.

"Hi…" she murmured softly, stroking the ribbons and the handle of the flail. "I missed you too."

She looked so happy in that moment, and so very beautiful, that Corkus found it painful to look at her. Yet he couldn't look away.

"Now, Sylvia, dear," the Demon Queen's voice interrupted Corkus' reverie and Sylvia's smile, "Here's some pocket money for you." Another whip-like snap and a small, blood red velvet bag landed in front of Sylvia. "Stay _out_ of trouble until we get there, all right?" The Queen then looked off to the side briefly and seemed to heave a little sigh. "No, dear," she muttered a little quietly to someone invisible, "I can't say that. No. You can tell her when we get there. No."

The small figure was becoming more and more transparent and the red mists around it seemed to be dissipating. As the image finally flickered out and died, a very deep and booming voice – unmistakeably that of a man – came through the link as if across some great distance:

"Daddy loves you, honey! Be saaafe!"

And a last, enraged: "Dear!" From the queen. Then the link died and the mists were gone. The colour of the pearl itself had faded into an ashen grey.

All eyes in the tent turned to Sylvia, who blushed a very deep colour of red and laughed embarrassedly. "Eh-heh-heh… That was my dad. Yeah. He can get a little excited and… hrm. So, Griffith, can I talk to you, please? In private?"

Griffith looked around at his commanders and raised one white, perfect eyebrow at their various stunned expressions. "Well… yes, certainly. I think we all need a break before we start discussing battle plans. Will you give us a minute, gentlemen?"

Corkus was apparently not the only one who felt the need for some fresh air and normality, because all the officers quickly and quietly filed out of the tent. But before he left, he threw a quick glance back at the half-demon princess, and felt a sharp stab in his chest as he saw her slowly trot up to Griffith , hands shyly clasped behind her back – trailing the heavy flail behind her. He snorted angrily to hide the pain and stomped away.

To be continued…

* * *

Ladybug: (sparkles intensively, so much that huge flowers are blooming around her) Oooooooh… So cooool! So awesome! The Mother is so cool, and Garou is too-too cuuuute… (suddenly grabs Pearlyblue and turns disgustingly huge and wet manga eyes on her) Ladybug wants one, Pearl ! Ladybug really, really wants one! Can Ladybug have one? Pleeeeease ?!  
Pearlyblue (shocked) Wha- wha- what?  
Wakko (dangerous gleam in eyes) Oh, I can give you one…  
Pearlyblue (to Wakko) SHUT UP! (back to Ladybug) What? What do you want?  
Ladybug: Ladybug wants an animal companion! A spirit beast! Everyone else has one! Sylvia does! Pleasepleasepleaseplease…!  
Pearlyblue Ah… I… it's… ALL RIGHT! Okay. But you have to write to Mary-Sue Co. yourself and ask for one, okay?  
Ladybug: (beams) Okay! (runs off)  
Wakko …Mary-Sue Co.?  
Pearlyblue I know, I know… I just made something up, off the top of my head. It'll get her out of our hair for a while…  
Wakko …And then she'll forget all about it. Right. Good thinking.  
Pearlyblue Thanks. So, let's get to the Reviewer Responses, then.  
Wakko Sure. Thunder Mistress is first! (winks) Don't worry, hon, it'll take more than that to kill us off. And you're right – this section could use some more humorous fics… so why haven't you posted yours yet?  
Pearlyblue NIclas… Hiya! Let me try to address your questions: 1) Um… technically, she can turn anything that she finds "Icky" or troublesome into something cute… something "Ladybug approved", if ya catch my drift. 2) …I can't really answer that in it's entirety right now, but yeah, you could say that. 3)…  
Wakko The answer to three is: send me your address, your phone number and a picture of you in wet swimwear, as well as a note on sexual preference and I'll see what I can do…  
Pearlyblue (elbows Wakko out of the way, glowering at her) Flirt on your OWN TIME, d-mn it! (clears throat) and 4) Er… Ta-daaah?  
Wakko Sweet pal, Vitellio. (waves) Hi! You've got beer? Wanna share? (gets gleam back in eyes again and pushes up her breasts a little) I'll make it worth your while… (whispers) And yeah, that was my doing alright. These two would be so lost without me.  
Pearlyblue The Crimson King-  
Ladybug: (appears out of nowhere and grabs the sparkly crown) Whooaaaooow!! Ooh, thankyouthankyouthankyou! ( huggleglomps Crimson King to the point of strangulation, blushing cutely) Crimsie is the bestest bestest coolest of everyone, everywhere! Ladybug loves you, loves you, loves you! Ladybug's gonna wear this always, always! Oh, (releases death-grip slightly) But what is Ladybug going to give back to Crimsie? What would Crimsie like? Is there anything Ladybug can give to Crimsie in return?  
Wakko …Oh, she is just so easy… (sighs) I wish I could… just once…  
Pearlyblue (bops Wakko over the head) Snap out of it.  
Wakko What? I'm just saying, with all that energy, think of what she would be like in bed…  
Pearlyblue (measuring the blueness of Crimson King's face) …Yeah… (dryly) Wild. Do you seriously have a death wish or something?  
Wakko Well… (pouts) I just thought it would be interesting, is all.  
Pearlyblue Right. Moving on: Alien Without A cLuE – er… thank you? We are happy to have provided… a meal for you. Um. I hope you come back for seconds. Right.  
Wakko magical- flyingdragon – Yeah… about that… yeah… hrm. Timmmme… Time works differently here and we really DID update quickly, only you're in a different… er… time-zone… and you know… computers can be… Dude! Must I explain everything to you?! (grins) Anyway, hope you liked it! Stay tuned!  
Ladybug: (still huggling Crimson King) Kahuda… First review by new person! Yay! But what is it saying? Ladybug don't understand…  
Pearlyblue and Wakko: (exchange guilty looks) Er… Yeah. Updated! Ta daaah…?

Until next time… 


	10. Sylvia in more conflicts

Pearlyblue: Welcome back again! The Weird Ones are proud to announce that with this chapter, Mary Sue Goes Berserk is officially in the double-digit league! In other words: For your amusement, we humbly present… chapter TEN!  
Wakko: Yaaaaay! (Puts party hat on Pearl's head, kisses her on the mouth before she has a chance to ward her off and then presses a glass of wine into her hand) Let's celebrate!  
Pearlyblue: (sputters, spits and chokes) …T… T… _Tongue!_  
Ladybug: (runs in with pompoms and streamers, leaving little firework-explosions in her tracks) Ten! Ten! Chappie ten! Woo hoo , go us!  
(The party is suddenly interrupted by the sound of an approaching plane, shortly followed by a gentle rain of sparkly rainbow dust, accompanied by a quiet, sweet tune.)  
Pearlyblue: …What the h- ll ?  
Wakko: Uh… Ick ! It's in my hair!  
Ladybug: (Stops, stares into the sky, then starts bouncing excitedly) Oh! Oh! They're here! They're heeeree !  
Pearlyblue and Wakko: (Exchanges worried looks)  
Pearlyblue: Ladybug… what have you …   
Wakko: (looking up into the sky) WHAT's that coming down from the sky?  
(All three watch as three boxes comes gently falling down through the sky. One has a blue parachute, another yellow and the third is red. The boxes are marked )  
Pearlyblue: (Warily edges over to the box with the blue parachute and pokes it with a stick) ? Microsoft? (hopefully ) Have you… ordered computers, Ladybug?  
Ladybug: (Is eagerly trying to get the lid off of the box with the yellow parachute) Wha ? Nonono, Ladybug write to , Like Pearlyblue said. Ladybug ordered animal companions! Pearl and Wakko got one each, too, so you wouldn't get jealous! (Grins ear to ear)  
Wakko: (Gives Pearlyblue a dangerous glare) I thought you said you _made it up_!  
Pearlyblue: I thought I did…!

(TBC...)

Chapter Ten: Sylvia In More Conflicts.

"Hey, Corkus, wait up!"

Corkus halted, his angry mulling temporarily interrupted, and sent the blond scout a mildly annoyed glance. He hoped whatever it was that the scout wanted wouldn't take long – he didn't really feel like talking to anyone right now.

"What?"

Judeau flashed him a big smile and trotted up next to him. "I just… Wow… what do you think of Sylvia's mother, huh? That was…" Seemingly at a loss for words, Judeau finished that sentence with a low whistle. Corkus grunted affirmatively and kept walking, hoping Judeau would get the hint. He didn't, easily keeping up with Corkus and still smiling.

"Man," he went on, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Sylvia's really something… every fairy tale ever – and more – just comes to real living life, all around her! Magic and demons and…" he interrupted himself with a light-hearted laughter, "It gets just a little too much, sometimes, eh?"

Corkus snorted again, frowning deeper now. "Yeah." He curtly admitted.

"But… somehow… just because it's _her_, you know… It's okay. It's like… it's not half as scary as it could – and _should_ – have been. Because it's her. Haven't you felt it, too?"

Judeau's stubborn refusal to leave him alone and his constant blabbering about Sylvia, understandable though it might be, was really starting to get on Corkus' nerves.

"Yeah, sure, I guess," he sighed, hoping against hope that the scout would be happy with that and go away already, but no.

"Yeah, she sure is special." Judeau leisurely put his hands behind his head and stretched, muttering in a lower, more contemplative tone of voice: "I wonder if Griffith's gonna let her fight now, though, after _that_."

Corkus didn't bother to comment, and increased his pace. Judeau matched it, still smiling innocently.

"Are you okay, by the way?"

Corkus instantly ground to a halt and turned to Judeau in surprise. "What?"

The scout's smile had become a little bit more concerned. "Well, you've seemed a little out of sorts, lately. Weirder than usual. What's wrong?"

Corkus glared at him, feeling his heartbeats speed up alarmingly. "Nothing's wrong!" he growled, a bit too harshly and a bit too fast. He tried to calm down a bit and took a quick, deep breath. "Nothing's wrong with me," he stated, a bit less explosively, "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, excuse me, I've got some things to do."

"No you don't," Judeau said, confused, as Corkus tried to turn away. "We're still technically in a meeting with Griffith, and he could call us back any minute. Why don't you want to talk about it?"

Realising that he couldn't actually run very much further than he'd already gone from the command tent, Corkus stopped and heaved a very irritable sigh. He turned back, still glowering. "Shut up, blond little weird guy," he growled. "There's nothing to talk about! There's nothing wrong with me! Just leave me alone, okay!"

Judeau had raised one eyebrow, and now his grin suddenly gained an edge. "'Blond little weird guy'? Oh, come on, even you could come up with something sharper than that. Really, Corkus. Something's terribly wrong with you, and you know it. And it's something about Sylvia."

Unable to form any words nor maintain eye contact with the scout, Corkus just snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. His heart was suddenly thundering in his ears – but he could still hear Judeau's calm, even casual voice:

"I mean, here's _the _hottest girl that ever set foot on this soil, _literally_ throwing herself at you – for some odd reason – and you… push her away? That's just not the Corkus I know. Now, just what is that about?"

Corkus sputtered angrily for a few moments, scrambling for something to say – damn, but it was hard to concentrate with all the noise his heart was making!

"I… She's… it's… not… none of you business! I… So what if I'm pushing her away! Have you not noticed that she's a _demon?_ She's freakishly strong, kicks more ass than Guts… She's as _unfeminine_ as they come! And fucking _scary!_ Maybe I just don't find her attractive! At all!" 

"Hum," said Judeau, no longer smiling but certainly not ruffled. "Well, I think you're just about the only guy in this whole army who feels that way about her, then. Nobody else really seems to care… why should you?"

Corkus knew that he was blushing and scowled even deeper, hoping to convince the scout that it was all due to anger and rage. "Well… I just do, okay? It's not something that you can just forget about, you know!"

"Oh?" Judeau cocked his head to the side and looked just a little bit too innocent. "I thought you just said that you, just like the rest of us, had felt that she somehow just made it all manageable."

" Hnninnhinnh …!" Corkus really wished he could have gotten something more intelligent out of himself right there. He crossed his arms even tighter around himself and glared over at the innocent-looking scout with real, growing anger. How dared he be logical at a time like this?

The innocent look on Judeau's face slowly dissipated, leaving room for a much more sly grin.

"She does, doesn't she? You _do_ feel it too." It wasn't really a question, and Corkus couldn't find any way to answer it anyway. Judeau's grin disappeared with a little sigh and the blond scout walked a little closer, now looking merely calmly confused.

"So what is it, then? I could tell you really liked her at dinner… what happened after that? She's only been nice to you, and she really does like you – don't ask me why... but why are you hurting her like this?"

Corkus just glared at him, knowing full well that he was blushing worse than ever now. After a few moments, he had to look away.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" he muttered. "Just let it go. I don't see why it's even bothering you in the first place…"

"It doesn't really _bother_ me, per se, it's just… not you at all. I was thinking that maybe you'd gone insane or something… or suddenly turned gay, I don't know."

"I am _not_… That is _not_ what it is! Do you _want _to get your ass kicked or what?"

Judeau just smiled and waved disarmingly at Corkus . "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just… I'm stumped here, pal. What the hell is wrong with you? Any other guy in this camp would be _thrilled_ to be in your place."

Corkus sent the blond man a threatening glare. "I said: Let it go. It's for the best, anyway."

Judeau studied him thoughtfully for a few seconds, then sighed in defeat and shrugged. "Alright. Okay. Sorry for prying. I suppose you've got your reasons. Right. Do you want to head back to the conference tent?"

Corkus glared at the scout commander for a little while longer and then stomped past him, back towards the big tent. "I do," he snorted as he passed by.

* * *

Griffith watched the gorgeous maiden nervously walk up to him, more intently than he let on. He gave her a politely questioning smile and asked as calmly and steadily as if meeting terrible, threatening Demon Queens was an everyday occurrence:

"Yes, Lady Sylvia?"

"Um…" The demon Princess shyly looked down and drew little circles on the ground with her dainty toes. "I know mom can be a bit much every now and then, and I'm not saying you shouldn't take her _very_ seriously – because you really, really should – but, but, but… She really has no idea of how _good_ I am in battle! I'd… just… pleasepleaseplease don't let her scare you into not letting me fight with you! I'm the _only_ demon here, and nothing un-demonic can hurt me and the only demonic things around are my own things and no one else could _possibly_ wield or use them so please, please, pretty, pretty _please_ let me fight with you!"

He allowed the anxious beauty to inhale and catch her breath, and when he felt certain that she had said all that she wanted to say, he allowed his smile to widen reassuringly.

"Lady Sylvia, I assure you, I had no such intents."

As she looked up into his face with wide, surprised and hopeful eyes, he gave her the look that he knew gave his eyes a deep, sincere glow and lowered his voice just a little:

"Your mother might not believe in your abilities, my Lady, but I do. I am sure I could not do this without you, and I would be honoured to have you in the foremost front of my army. I would, in fact, ask you to ride with the raiders."

Her delicious little gasp brought the most spectacular sparkle to her eyes, but he barely had time to notice it before her arms were around him again, hugging him tightly.

"I get to fight with the _raiders!_ Oh my _god!_ Oh thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, you have _no idea_ what this means to me!"

Griffith suppressed the smugness he felt and gently, politely returned Sylvia's hug. She caught herself right about there and pulled back, blushing as usual.

"Oh… Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I should try to be more professional now that I'm a… a soldier! A part of an army! Oh, this is _huge_… thank you, Sir, I won't let you down!" She even finished that sentence off with a little salute, snapping her heels together and everything. Griffith couldn't keep the amusement out of his smile and saluted her back, almost without thinking about it.

"I'm sure you won't, Lady Sylvia." He smiled. "So, was that all you wanted?"

Still shining like a golden-red little beacon of happiness, Sylvia nodded.

"Right, then could you call the others back, please?"

"Yes, Sir! Right away!"

* * *

"She's going to _what?_"

Corkus found himself caught in a strange mix of emotions at the announcement of Sylvia's new position in the Hawks. On one hand, he was remarkably disappointed – and at the same time relieved – that she would be fighting so far away from his preliminary position, but on the other it was damn funny to watch Guts completely freak out like that.

Griffith was of course unruffled as always, staring the raider commander down with that know-it-all little smile on his face.

"She's going to fight with the raiders, Guts."

"But Griffith, come off it! She's a _girl!_" "A remarkably skilled and dangerous woman, yes." 

Corkus wondered just what the demon Princess herself would have reacted to this, since she had left them after her little conversation with Griffith and therefore couldn't really comment. He dared a glance over at Caska , not surprised to find her scowling darkly. As always she looked like she wanted to speak her mind – and skin them both with mere words while she was at it – but everyone knew she wouldn't actually say anything in Griffith's presence.

Guts might just get his head seriously chewed off later, though.

He hoped he'd be around to see it.

"Listen, I'm _not_ going to babysit that… _woman!_"

Oooh, yeah. A definite head-chewing coming up. 

"She needs no babysitting, Guts, so that is fine."

"I don't want her in my ranks! Who knows what effect she's gonna have on the men!"

"The men are used to fighting alongside a woman, I believe."

Guts hesitated in confusion, making a small movement as if to look around the room before he caught up with himself and remembered. Bad, bad move. 

"Well… I mean a woman like _that_… you know, that looks like one ."

On second thought, he'd probably get himself killed after this. Corkus just _had_ to be there. Even Judeau and Pippin were surreptitiously edging away from the female commander's general vicinity.

"Really, Guts, that was uncalled for. And I do believe your men have a _bit_ more discipline than you're giving them credit for. Now, do you have a _real_ complaint or can we end this conversation?"

Berated and visibly ashamed, Guts backed down with a barely audible, muttered apology – whether it was directed at Caska, Griffith or both was anyone's guess. It sure didn't placate the fury of a woman scorned, though.

"Very well, then. Everybody else knows what they're supposed to do, so that concludes our meeting for today. Get your men ready to move out. Dismissed."

* * *

Sylvia had found a calm and private enough spot to sit and talk to Garou and Sparkles (The heavy two-handed flail, a living weapon that had bonded to her and allowed her to name it herself), and get some much-needed cuddling done. Oh, and to explain the current situation to them – she was absolutely certain that none of her companions would tell her mother about this, but it was only fair to warn them that she was going to go against the wishes of the Queen. _In case_ she found out. Which she probably would, one way or the other… but that was a bridge she'd have to cross when she got there. Maybe she'd even have proven her worth by then, too!

The sound of raised voices interrupted her, just as she was starting to connect with the magical armour-bracer as well.

"Well, I said I was sorry!"

"Apology not accepted, damnit ! Just how the _hell_ do you think you'll get away with such a pitiful 'm'srry' after what you did to me!"

"What? What did I do to you? You're just overreacting, like you always do! Stupid woman…"

"Oh, _now_ I'm a woman? Not because I _look_ like one, that's for sure!"

"But will you just _get over it_ already? I just meant that… that… she's got bigger boobs than you!"

This was followed by a short, tense silence, so thick you could cut it with a rusty dagger. Then a low, threatening growl: "I want a proper apology, and I want it _right now_."

"Ah, but look, I didn't _mean_ anything!"

"Well, you embarrassed me in front of _everyone!_ I honestly couldn't care less if you _meant_ to do it or not, you _did it_ nonetheless, and I want a proper apology! I deserve that!"

* * *

Judeau had "incidentally happened" to walk in the same direction as Caska and Guts, and was now sitting conveniently close to the epicentre of the argument – on the other side of the closest tent, to be precise. You know, just in case.

Well, at least he was more subtle about it than Corkus, who was peeking around one of the other tents with a very unsubtle aura of utter sneakiness about him, occasionally snickering to himself.

The voices had just reached an alarming crescendo when Judeau caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up, seeing Sylvia striding purposefully towards the danger zone. He was just about to stand up and try to intercept her in some way, when he froze and stared in surprise. Trailing Sylvia, fluttering through the air at about the same height as her golden-red head, was a little creature. It looked remarkably like a… dragon.

And strangely enough, the thought that first flew through the scout's head was: "But… I thought dragons were a lot _bigger…_"

And then the moment was gone, and Sylvia had walked right on into it. Judeau jumped to his feet and ran around the tent just in time to see Sylvia, standing right next to Caska, thrust an insolent finger at the tall, powerful raider commander.

"Yes, she sure does! You know, you should really show this woman a lot more respect than you do! Now, I don't know a lot about this world, mind you, but I can put two and two together – since she is the only female in this army, I'm betting she had to fight _very_ hard to get where she is! And she's a commander, to boot! So, just what did you say to her that made her so upset?"

Guts just blinked in shock at the accusing little finger and almost looked like he was about to back away. Then his brows furled in an attempt at concentration and he cleared his throat.

"I… I just… listen, she's overreacting, all I did was… I accidentally compared her to… you, and…"

"Overreacting!" Caska seemed to have snapped out of her surprise a bit faster than Guts. "First you claim that having her among your raiders will make it hard for the men to concentrate- " Sylvia gave Caska a look of utter confusion, but did not interrupt. "-And when Griffith points out that they've already fought with _me_ you say, 'well, I mean, someone that looks like a _real woman_'!"

Sylvia's confusion was gone in an instant, and her jaw dropped almost to the floor.

"He said _what?_ Oh! Ohh ! That… You… You _brute_, you! You… musclebrain! Oh… my… god, mother was right…"

Guts made a last, desperate attempt to redeem himself:

"But _I didn't mean anything!_"

"Well, that doesn't matter much, does it? You hurt her feelings, you insensitive butt! You should apologise right now, and you'd better mean it!" As she spoke, her demeanour – and, to some degree, her appearance changed. Judeau could suddenly see the clearly that this girl was the daughter of the Demon Queen. "You said that she doesn't look like a woman… Ohh… were you _trying _to hurt her? That is so not true… just look at her! I mean, anyone with eyes in their heads could tell that she's a girl – and a very pretty one, at that! You said that _just to be mean _, didn't you?"

Caska's face had undergone an interesting change as well: the scowl had disappeared in a flash as her eyebrows had skyrocketed in surprise, and the cutest little blush had coloured her cheeks. Judeau realised with some surprise that this was probably the first time Caska had gotten a nice, apparent compliment without any ulterior motives or scornful intents. She really did look quite taken aback. And really cute. 

Guts sputtered half-heartedly about not meaning anything with his thoughtless comment, but Sylvia wouldn't have it. She calmed down some and took a few steps up to Guts, placing one delicate hand on his massive shoulder.

"Okay, listen here," she said patiently, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt her. I can understand how you sometimes say things that come out a lot differently than you had intended, and you _are_ a man, after all, so this must happen to you all the time…"

Guts froze for an instant, and finally managed a proper syllable: "…What?"

"Well," Sylvia explained, unfazed, "My mother always told me that women think better than men, 'women think, men do,' she said, 'that's why they need us to think for them and point them in the right direction, so they know what to hit.' So you see, I understand. But that doesn't make it okay to hurt people. I'm a woman and I still say stupid things sometimes, but I always apologise, because that's the right thing to do."

"Wait, wait, wait… you're saying that… women are _smarter_ than men? That we are all _stupid?_"

"Mr Guts, are you going to apologise for saying something mean or aren't you?"

"But…" "Lady Sylvia…" Caska finally managed to involve herself in the rather one-sided argument, "Listen, I appreciate this, but I don't need your help here…"

"That's okay," Sylvia chirped cheerfully, "I'm only too happy to. We girls have to stick together, especially when we're the only ones in the entire army!"

"Hey, don't ignore me!"

"But, Lady Sylvia… really, I can handle this…"

"I know. You're cool. But I just get all riled up when I hear people being so mean to each other, when they're supposed to work together."

"Hey!"

Judeau wondered in the back of his mind why the hell the tall man didn't take the opportunity to sneak off and wait for things to cool down before venturing near either woman again. Well, now it was too late: Sylvia had turned her attention back at him.

"Hm? Are you ready to apologise now?"

This time Guts jaw dropped. "Am I…? You… Haven't you… _God! Women!" _ And with that, he threw his arms into the air and indignantly stomped off. Sylvia let him go with a little sigh, and then turned to Caska with a concerned little frown.

"You know, he's probably feeling threatened by you. You should let him feel a little manly every now and then... Mother says that women need to do that, sometimes, to make sure that men like him don't feel so insecure about themselves."

Caska had been right on the verge of saying something, but her words were interrupted but a long, snorting sound as she tried to choke back a sudden burst of laughter. Judeau, too, had to clamp his hand over his own mouth to hold back his mirth, but from a nearby tent came a loud, familiar guffaw. Sylvia turned her head to the sound as if enchanted by it.

"Corkus?" 

The raucous laughter was cut short and replaced by some heavy coughing. Corkus appeared for an instant, managing a quick, strained "I gotta go," before hurrying off between the tents. Sylvia made a few awkward movements in his direction, but halted herself. She sent Judeau a quick glance filled with unspoken questions but then looked away again.

"Well…" She mumbled, all the strength suddenly gone from her features, "I… suppose I have stuff to take care of, too. I'll… hrm. See you around, Lady Caska."

The little dragon flew up to her shoulder as she turned away and gently leaned against her alabaster cheek, and the ribbons of the flail fluttered about her as if trying to comfort her as well. Judeau wasn't so sure that they _weren't_.

Caska remained, looking after Sylvia. Judeau had known her long enough to know that though she seemed to be completely still, her mind was in turmoil right now. Too many conflicting emotions. He walked up to her, making sure that his usual smile was firmly in place.

"Yeah," he said, "That's a dragon."

She turned to him in surprise and then wanly returned his smile when she recognised him. "Really? I… I thought dragons would be… bigger," she said, sounding somewhat dazed.

"You know, that was my exact first thought as well." He grinned. "I guess it's a special kind of dragon… wouldn't surprise me, really."

Caska looked back at the direction in which Sylvia had disappeared.

"No. she's… really something else, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah." Judeau nodded gravely. "Oh yeah. You know… those ribbons on her weapon… I think they actually _purred_, before." She turned back to him again. "Purred!"

"Uh-huh. Like a cat. Either the ribbons or the weapon itself, I don't know… but _something_ in there purred, I'm sure of it."

Caska brought a hand up to her forehead as if she was starting to develop a headache, but with a confused smile on her face.

"Oh my." 

"Indeed," he almost laughed. Then he took her elbow and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "Come on, let's steal some wine, share it with some of the guys and pretend that everything is normal."

Her smile widened somewhat as she looked up into his face. "I… I think I'd like that. Thanks."

To be continued…

* * *

Ladybug: (Is now chewing on the box, making half-choked growling noises)  
Pearlyblue: (Is carefully prying the lid open on her box, muttering) But this is not supposed to exist… I didn't write it… I don't understand…  
Wakko: (Eyes her box warily. The box is making growling noises and shakes. It is also kept closed by double chains) What's this, then…?  
Pearlyblue: (looks up, sees audience) Oh! Oh, hiya ! Right, we're almost forgetting the reviewer responses! Wakko ! Ladybug! We can open the boxes later. (Clears throat) Now, let's see…  
Ladybug: (Looks up from the box for a brief moment) Oh! magical-flyingdragon! Don't run away! We… we're not going to end this story anytime soon… right, Pearl?  
Pearlyblue: (Checks notes) No… at the moment, we're estimating 19 chapters. So... we're about half way through, actually. IF everything works out as planned. It might get longer.  
Wakko: Thunder Mistress! Sorry to hear you're not agreeing with the site admins. And I don't quite agree that Charlotte sucks… she is so deliciously… corruptible.  
Pearlyblue: (Mumbles) I think she's an utter pest, though. TALK about airhead… (Loudly) Portia! (Grins proudly) Glad you liked it! Please say more nice things.  
Ladybug: (Is completely engrossed her box) Gnag! Gnaaarg! Rgnh… gnnrhg…  
Wakko: (Cough) Anyway… Kahuda: Yeah, you just stick around and you'll see. (Grin)  
Pearlyblue: Uli – Glad you liked it! Welcome to the fic - and we will, so stay tuned!  
Wakko: Vitellio ! Yeah baby… ( bats eyelashes seductively) Are you trying to get me drunk? Honey, you don't have to go through all that trouble, I'm in anytime, anywhere with you… (Blows Vitellio a kiss)  
Pearlyblue: You… say that to everyone, Wakko…  
Wakko: …So?  
Pearlyblue: Nevermind. (Reads the rest of Vitellio's review and starts to shake) Momma… momma… no, noo… please. Please don't… Momma, I'm scared…  
Ladybug: Cware bwears? Wabybug knows fe Cware bwears… Wabybug pways with My Wibble Pomies an' Cware bwears aw fe tiwe… gnaaargh, rrgh… nnngghg!  
Wakko: (Studies Ladybug for a moment, then points) You think it'd go faster to open the box if you pushed that button labelled "open"?  
Ladybug: Hm? Hmmm? Oh! Lookie, sparkly button! (Presses button)  
Yellow box: (Falls apart, revealing a lavender-coloured little kitten-puppy thing with big, blue eyes and a pink heart on its forehead)  
Kitten-Puppy: Yuff! Yuff!  
Ladybug: (Gasps, sparkles and blooms) Aww! He's too, too kyooooot! I will name him… Um… Mm… Yum… Yummy? Yum… Yum-Yum! Yaay! (Huggleglomps Yum-Yum)  
Yum-Yum: (Blushes happily) Yuff! Yauurrrr… (Starts purring)  
Pearlyblue: (Sweatdrops) Hm. Alright. Here goes… (Presses button on Blue Box)  
White Winged Cat: (Emerges from the box and stretches languidly) (British accent) Oh, I thought I'd _never_ get out of there…  
Pearlyblue: It… talked!  
Winged Cat: Of course I talked! I am an intelligent companion for a… supposedly intelligent owner. And I am _not_ an "it", thank you very much.  
Pearlyblue: Oh… sorry. I was just… taken by surprise. So, what's your name, then?  
Winged Cat: (Sits up, straightening his glasses) I am Sokrates, pleased to make your acquaintance.  
Pearlyblue: (Holds hand out to Sokrates) The pleasure is all mine. I'm Pearlyblue.  
Sokrates: (Smiles and rubs his head against Pearl's hand) Pearlyblue, my Master.  
Wakko: (Has liberated her beast already. It is a small, dragon-like lizard with many thorns, red eyes, and a grinning, fanged maw.) Hunh. Hiya.   
Dragon-Beast: (Looks around, then stares at Wakko, hisses seductively and waggles its eyebrows at her)  
Wakko: (Grins back, then leans forward and runs a fingernail up the underside of the beast's jaw) Well, aren't you a feisty little thing…  
Dragon-Beast: (Swoons and purr-growls)  
Ladybug: Oh, how cool! What is Wakko going to call it?  
Wakko: (Cuddling Dragon-Beast) Does it need a name?  



End file.
